Wednesday, March 4, 2015

The Crocus

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

You haven’t been able to see it, but it has been
there all along. There, in the darkness. The harsh
times always ask us to put faith in the invisible.

I’ve watched the gaunt squirrels searching for it.
Sometimes they prevail, pressing their noses into
leaf litter and mulch. Scratching. Sniffing again.
Scratching some more. Then, they get greedy.

Often, they move on, sad and empty, but hopeful
that something else will satiate. Soon.  And, it
continues to be there, contemplating its worth
and waiting to be of some beautiful use.

I wonder what goes on inside of it when the
Earth’s embrace turns from hard and cold to
soft and warm. Surprise? Delight? A teary
emotional release?

Something like that, I imagine.

By this age, you’d think I’d know. For sure.
But, I don’t.  I will tell you, when I do.

©2015-2016/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Wonderment: New and Selected Poems"
To be published by Talking Water Press

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