Wednesday, April 14, 2010
The Pool of Spring.
Embraced by spring, literally.
Over my head a V-shaped (and noisy!) colony of birds arriving from southern shores to spend the summer in Norway. Beneath my feet crocuses forcing their blue petals through layers of brown leaves. Down the ravine water gushing, splashing, spluttering, all that snow from the forest melting faster than the river can handle, flooding the valley where I now walk and shout with an exceptionally silent voice:
STOP ALL THE CLOCKS!
Let not anything disturb this precious second! I am having a James Wright moment, as when the poet was Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota -
“Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly,
Asleep on the black trunk,
Blowing like a leaf in green shadow.
Down the ravine behind the empty house,
The cowbells follow one another
Into the distances of the afternoon.”
To my right a carpet of blue Scilla Siberia, to my left a sparrow cocking his head, watching me from a safe distance.
For a short while my body is only eyes.
Till a treacherous, black creature on my left shoulder whispers into my ear....but it cannot last....
My heart slows down. I know he is right. Soon the budding petals will lose their bright blue color, and the birds will fly back south.
But for now I decide to drop the black creature into the pool of spring, and watch him probe his way out.