I long for summer
And raindrops of green budding on trees.
I miss the clarity of an unfrozen stream,
The warmth it reflects onto the sandy bottom
And the feathered birds of the water it hides.
For summer is when the passion of life awakens
And the poetry flows unashamed in the sunlight,
When blue jays are born from the sky
And the song of love fills every ridge of a tree’s bark.
Summer is when freedom is freely given
To all creatures, not just certain ones,
And I can blend in with the wild world,
Immortalized with each riveting thunderstorm
And each discovery of a shed feather.
Summer is when I count myself rich beyond belief,
As each night bestows me with the finest cut diamonds
And each morning with a bounty of sunlit gold.
Day finds me lost within the heart of a forest,
Delightedly frustrated with the ribcage trees around me
For holding back their heartbeat from my curiosity.
I long for the bare, naked sense of wonder
Echoed by my eyes and my feet
As nothing goes unnoticed by them:
Not the cool, mossy earth of a deep-rooted wood,
Nor the warm, unmoving sand of a shore
As not one timeless grain in the hourglass
Moves forward into a mortal future.
Summer is when my mind emerges from numb hibernation
And remembers the steps to the dance of happiness,
For summer is when shadows disperse into warmth
And all hopes and dreams come to life.