One would be wise to notice
the breath catch of spring
not because it is revolutionary
in the way of something never seen
or thought before,
but because it is the same
as last March
and the one before,
what grace

One would be wise to apply
spring’s wisdom to her own heart
for when all feels dead or
at least forgotten,
stuffed tight away for life’s repetition,
more lies beneath,
more always lies beneath

One would be wise to remember
she’s got vigor and raucous blooms shut up in her bones,
she’s got roots that wend deep down
in all manner of conditions,
she’s connected to life and it’s got its rhythms

One would be wise to remember,
though her vine take a different course this spring,
though only time will say exactly where,
though some blooms remain tight closed,
still she lives,
what grace

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