Between Seasons

new daffodils 

fluttering in wake

the air is light, warm,

sun rays begin to show,

bobbing in and out 

as if shy,

aware of how early they came,

of winter trees, 

dry pale beige grass,

and cautious sweaters.

the temperature 

begins to rise past 

middle age.

I let my hair down, 

as I never do,

let its clinging texture 

embrace my face.

I free my arms from 

sleeves too long,

baggy shapes.

breath in one, 

together with the wind

and the shade.

as my body begins to remember

the particular feelings 

of spring,

my mood lifts.

I remember when I was born.

why im here, why I choose to live,

everything is,

that ecstatic oneness, 

that calmness, 

that peace, 

that comes from 

sitting simply, being,

in the beginning of spring.