Awaiting Spring

Alison L. JamesPoetry

Granite grey clouds, like dull quartz inclusions,
Drift across New York’s skyline
Obscuring sunny skies from view.
Once grassy slopes, now slick mud patches,
Invite scampering dogs, who leave
Dark paw-prints on matt concrete.
Low City sounds thud to the ground
While bird calls clip the air
From dripping branches overhead,
Breaking the low frequency of calm.

Hooded meanderers pass cold rock outcrops
That pepper newly-dampened tarmac paths
While toddlers snooze, cozy under blankets,
Oblivious of feasting squirrels,
Black and grey tails a’swishing.
Tree buds and bulbs sleep anon
Harboring newly-stored rains:
“Drink now, before next Summer’s swelter
When grasses brown and flowers wither
And oak leaves turn to parchment”.

Reflecting glass winks through stibnite trees
That ground energy from sky to earth
Generating life in every breath I take.
Fluffed pigeons cannot hide amid skeletal branches
And fly in unison to city rooftops,
Hematite spires and frosted towers,
To perch upon window ledges
Parallel-aligned like banded agate.
Queen Bodicea’s golden chariot glints of gold
Leading the way towards sunnier days.

Spring, like the mud-embedded lotus flower,
Stores her strength and waits to emerge
And unfurl her beauty nourished
From roots beneath the earth,
Tree by tree,
Bush by bush,
Flower by flower,
She will display the mystery
Of heaven’s full show.