March 05, 2009

Incantation for Vernal Equinox












Spring is caught—frost cloaks baby crocuses.
The junk of winter’s needle slows the flow.

The poem does not come. We call the laughing God.
The divine hunter whose reckless arrows wound

the thunderclouds. You the guzzler of ambrosia,
The blood-letter of buds, announce spring!

All the walled up of winter melts down with you
and the heavy rains. The Goddess maiden

is on your heels. She reigns all flowering.
You participate in the Earthen Goddess.

You plant yourself in Spring. Under the gray roots
of lightening sky, you make love to her.

Hidden by blankets of air and sunlight,
the grace of desire spills from the cliff edge

of a whirling floral bed. Every living thing,
her stone, her leaf, knows—Spring!

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