faces called flowers

as spring unfolds and the warmer days meld

with cooler rainy nights,

my thoughts become filled with the prospect of gardening.

i never achieve as much as i plan

and it's probably in the planning

that i gain the greatest satisfaction

(in almost anything)

advice that i treasure

that my grandmother

and my father both said at times in my past.

"always leave a place for the fairies at the bottom of the garden"

helen allingham cow parsley and bluebells

when faces called flowers float out of the ground

and breathing is wishing and wishing is having -

but keeping is downward and doubting and never

- it's april (yes, april; my darling) it's spring!

yes the pretty birds frolic as spry as can fly

yes the little fish gambol as glad as can be

(yes the mountains are dancing together)

when every leaf opens without any sound

and wishing is having and having is giving -

but keeping is doting and nothing and nonsense

- alive; we're alive, dear: it's (kiss me now) spring!

now the pretty birds hover so she and so he

now the little fish quiver so you and so i

(now the mountains are dancing, the mountains)

when more than was lost has been found has been found

and having is giving and giving is living -

but keeping is darkness and winter and cringing

- it's spring (all our night becomes day) o, it's spring!

all the pretty birds dive to the heart of the sky

all the little fish climb through the mind of the sea

(all the mountains are dancing; are dancing)

---e.e. cummings