in the glorious garden of fresh bursting pear
blossoms, where even branches birth red tender
shoots, newborn fists opening in innocent

praise. Light and rain and life! they cry, reach
to suckle sunshine. My hip scoffs, grumbles
an unwelcome antiphon. But you too, whisper

a thousand verdant buds on rejoicing hills
—you too! Fragrant roses draw, tumble me
on knees in invitation to inhale incense,

cinnamon crescendo, cardamom of angels.
Goldfinches swell the song—You too too too.
You new new new. Sight and sound and

scent of the sacrament of spring surge into
my heart, a living lightning strike of joy, kiss
electric, sparking blooms unknown to begin