Sunday, March 20, 2016


Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

Every year
when it comes,
I ask myself:
“What am I emerging from?”
 “What am I emerging into?”

Sooner or later we must leave
the darkness. Ready or not
the brisk air of early spring
wants bodies to hold on to.

So, I think on the others coming forth.
The bear and her cubs that have been
hidden among the rock walls
above my cabin.

The frogs and salamanders that
were below ground,
breathing through their skin.

The flowers, a sacred pattern
of cells laid out on an invisible
blueprint of celebration.
And I have a question:

how too do I take myself into this world?
I think about how it seems
so effortless to them.
There they are where they
weren’t before.

But poets like to find things,
like an idea,
like a meaning,
something that causes stirring,
because a world that always
sleeps cannot awaken.

So, this is it, I think:
some words on a page,
some questions arising among

Here I am saying,
“It is spring!”

And asking you to notice
that something wants
to emerge,

and must.

© 2016/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Conversations with Mary"
To be published by Talking Waters Press in 2016

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