In March

Darkness slips,
subservient to the dawn chorus.

Cobwebs glisten
celebrating first light,
the freshness of dew. 

In the trees, birds stir,  
ushering the new day,
the thrum of wings
sound enough to send
the little earthworm deeper,
and from my window
everything is in motion;

the rippled grass,
the spider, dexterously proficient,
a convoy of ants on skirmish duty,
something gossamer winged 
and quite beautiful as it
glides through the stillness of air;
and all around me is the hum of life
a satisfaction in the order of things;

and the coffee is hot, welcoming,
a familiar aroma,
though secondary to the 
moistened scent of morning,
the heady subtlety of nature
borne on the lightest of winds.
           
                  ~~~

Soon though, the interlude is done,
first cars sound in the distance,
searching for salvation behind
a slowly rising sun; 
and magic slips to mundanity,
though a sparrow, come late to 
the feast, still chirrups imperiously
until I smile and break bread.

A last sip and the dregs swill.
Patterns in the bottom of a cup
washing away the freshness of dew,
the scent of everything;
Yet still from my window,
everything is in motion,
including the shadow of my turning. 

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"dexterously proficient"
love that phrase...
and this is a warm and welcoming hint of spring...it is 68 here today...super windy, up to 60 miles an hour.
but the buds are all thinking of emerging.
you write beautiful lines...and the last one in this poem is startling..."the shadow of my turning"---
thanks for this treat full of imagery.
j.

[kentuck14]

Beccy,
A perfectly lovely poem . . .how well you capture the essence of a March morning. Like the way you bring yourself into the poem with a cup of coffee and end up looking into the bottom of the cup and then returning to the world outside. This a great meditation. Congratulations.
Tom

[Beccy]

It was just a moment. Looking from my window into the garden; I sensed, rather than saw the hum of life, the motion of things that mostly remain unseen. I love Spring, it encapsulates perfectly the power of Mother Nature; shows us how impermanent is our hold on this beautiful planet.

Beccy.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

You have eloquently describe the euphoric feeling of watching spring return again to breath new life into our souls.

[Chris Shaw]

Dear Beccy, your imagery here of spring is sublime. I love it. Also your choice of language. I liked the thrum of wings. They say the early bird catches the worm. Certainly in your poem the early riser has the choicest parts of the day, before the stirrings of the many going about their business. Lovely work.

Chris