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All the corners of the sky were brightening into blue and silver; the birds were chattering in the tiny garden trees; so loud it seemed as if the trees themselves were talking.

– G. K. Chesterton, from “The Honour of Israel Gow,” The Complete Father Brown (Penguin, 1981)

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Judith Harris, “In Your Absence”

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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

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שיר השירים

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The air is ecstasy; to breathe is joy; The sky is all one dream of flower blue; This loveliness must needs have some alloy, Or else my swelling heart will break. Ah, do Not love me now; save love for bitter days Of wind and rain, when hearts need comforting Against the cold. There are so many ways That one may capture happiness in Spring That April love is waste; it should be stored Away in some far corner of one’s heart ‘Til winter grays the world; then the bright hoard Can be brought forth. But love should have no part In Spring and all its beauty; love should be Dark winter’s own—its one bright ecstasy.

Do Not Love Me Now by Viola Cornett

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Claude McKay // "To One Coming North" [ID in alt text]

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National Poetry Month Day 20: On this spring Friday afternoon, we’re revisiting one of our favorites from Galway Kinnell’s COLLECTED POEMS, “Saint Francis and the Sow.”

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“This is the year you begin. Slip into the sweet mud. Get dirty. Stay dirty. There is nothing to forgive”

— Jeremy Radin, ‘Pipe Organ Owl Mansion’

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Worm Moon

by Mary Oliver

I. In March the earth remembers its own name. Everywhere the plates of snow are cracking. The rivers begin to sing. In the sky the winter stars are sliding away; new stars appear as, later, small blades of grain will shine in the dark fields. And the name of every place is joyful. II. The season of curiosity is everlasting and the hour for adventure never ends, but tonight even the men who walked upon the moon are lying content by open windows where the winds are sweeping over the fields, over water, over the naked earth, into villages, and lonely country houses, and the vast cities III. because it is spring; because once more the moon and the earth are eloping - a love match that will bring forth fantastic children who will learn to stand, walk, and finally run    over the surface of earth; who will believe, for years, that everything is possible. IV. Born of clay, how shall a man be holy; born of water, how shall a man visit the stars; born of the seasons, how shall a man live forever? V. Soon the child of the red-spotted newt, the eft, will enter his life from the tiny egg. On his delicate legs he will run through the valleys of moss down to the leaf mold by the streams, where lately white snow lay upon the earth like a deep and lustrous blanket of moon-fire, VI. and probably everything is possible.

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Te Deum

by Charles Reznikoff

Not because of victories I sing, having none, but for the common sunshine, the breeze, the largess of the spring.

Not for victory but for the day's work done as well as I was able; not for a seat upon the dais but at the common table.

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Spring - Christian Schmidt-Rasmussen , 2019.

Danish, b. 1963 -

Acrylic on canvas , 200 x 172 cm , 78 3/4 x 67 3/4 in.

[extollingtheeveryday]

David Hockney (b.1937) from The Arrival of Spring, Normandy (2020) digital and mixed media https://www.quaereliving.com/.../david-hockney-the...

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White-throated Sparrow Sings - 4k

Claritas

i

The All-Day Bird, the artist,

whitethroated sparrow,

striving

in hope and

good faith to make his notes

ever more precise, closer

to what he knows.

ii

There is the proposition

and the development.

The way

one grows from the other.

The All-Day Bird

ponders.

iii

May the first note

be round enough

and those that follow

fine, fine as

sweetgrass,

prays

the All-Day Bird.

iv

Fine

as the tail of a lizard,

as a leaf of

chives—

the shadow of a difference

falling between

note and note,

a hair’s breadth

defining them.

v

The dew is on the vineleaves.

My tree

is lit with the

break of day.

vi

Sun

light.

Light

light light light.

— Denise Levertov