Spring?

spring has not sprung but slid in like a night crawler

I smell her in the garden but cannot see her in the sky

the faint tweet of nesting bushtits should be a sign they are no longer flocking

but pairing up like high schoolers at the dance

unlike so many springs past which fell into my lap like a token, fully formed and redolent,

this one has slipped, tripped and false started

on a cold morning I discovered the first origami sheaves of the hostas unfurling their sleeves

like geisha undressing

then the fiddle heads first brown and nubby then pale green and hopeful unwound their tendrils into the late winter

and I thought really? so soon? its too gray outside still

how will you breathe in all this heavy sodden air?

but the waxy new leaves of the lemon trees reach up

cradling the tiny flowers whose perfume, mingling with the wisteria

makes for a heady flower bomb one cannot bottle or buy

so instead of a full blown ecstasy of scent sight and sound

no grand opening no season premiere the red carpet was not rolled out for this years vernal debut

perhaps it is natures recession

no grand expense paid no bonuses doled out

if you want to enjoy this spring you must seek her out in the shadows

turn under the stones and find the moss stand in her midst and breathe her in

and feel the nuance that has escaped our oh so brash and expectant selves

I have turned into a consumer american with no patience and no work ethic

I want it all at once handed straight to me

this spring is teaching me that some things take time and must be born slowly

it is a metaphor of my own painful and lengthy birth

I came into this world tentatively and did not fully embrace it all at once

I needed time to adjust to the new light

the new scent the new air

so I will embrace this new child called spring

coax her out slowly into the light

take her in slowly one new miracle at a time

I will take my time getting to know this shy and complicated girl