Spring is Slowly Spilling

Spring is slowly spilling over,
Blowing through branches of the trees,
Buds opening to drink in lengthening sun.
Surely deep within the bark, trees know
They must savor the moment while it lasts,
Knowing before end of year it will pass.
 
Each day, I look across the lake,
Observe the greening of the hills.
Past memories of spring rise….
People I’ve known and warmly loved,
Some who are no longer here.
 
Deep feelings enforce a slow pace,
Savor the sorrow along with new life in spring,
Drinking in the moment before planting comes.
Later in the summer, flowers will bloom
Where now there is only brown.
Standing still, I am satisfied that nature’s way
Ensures the preciousness of every day.

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