As thin-strung whispers of the night
invoke the dawn, I rise from threads
of tangled dreams, and feel the swirl
of nimble fingers in the air.
Clear bursts of cheeriness exude
from chirps and warbles; dappled notes
of gold and purple float upon
a harmony of green. The scent
of warm awakenings is pearled
along each leave and needled bough.
A healing rhythm flows, to mend
the frazzled hem of yesterday
and patch the holes in tread-worn time.
Of all the chores that nature does,
I love the sewing kit she keeps
inside a pocketful of spring.
Photo: “Birth of a Fern” by Maleah Torney, 2013.