spring rush

the outside edges of spring are so like falling in love

there's a kind of messy graceless abandon

in which nothing happens

that isn't intimately

and significantly

connected to the experience of love itself

and isn't that how it should be

always

after so very long -

searching in the darkness

for the slightest flicker of colour

until finally

with light's return

the grey scales

fall from your eyes

and the fullness of everything

crashes across the face of the world

accompanied by

a careless roaring for the sheer love of life itself

that it should be so kind

so generous

so laden with gifts

that one could be spared you

and why not celebrate that moment

as if it is the pinnacle of all possible moments

for surely it is that

and more

and so i say melt and rage and splash and dance

and sing your song as loud as you possibly can

because this is all of life as it is and always will be

in spring and in love