RECKLESS FOR SPRING

Reading this Mary Oliver Poem on another blog
Read A Little Poetry
I thought: 'save it for Spring'.
Then I read Grace's post "Love" at
windthread
and saw a New Mexico Spring promised
by that electric-blue sky,

and
in the expect stance of her goats.

(Go to the link above to see her whole amazing  post) 

Saw it again, sprouting from the onion on my own
alley-facing kitchen sill here in New York City,

just as I'd seen it in the Amaryllis sprouting on my friends sill looking out over her snowy yard in Massachusetts.

I felt it stirring within too, though there may be storms of every kind still to come, and March contains the dreaded 'Ides',
but that's a story for another day.

Spring will come again, so I'll keep being,
just going along my reckless way.

Reckless Poem

Mary Oliver

Today again I am hardly myself.

It happens over and over.

It is heaven-sent.

It flows through me

like the blue wave.

Green leaves — you may believe this or not —

have once or twice

emerged from the tips of my fingers

somewhere

deep in the woods,

in the reckless seizure of spring.

Though, of course, I also know that other song,

the sweet passion of oneness.

Just yesterday I watched an ant crossing a path, through the

         tumbled pine needles she toiled.

And I thought: she will never live another life but this one.

And I thought: if she lives her life with all her strength

         is she not wonderful and wise?

And I continued this up the miraculous pyramid of everything

         until I came to myself.

And still, even in these northern woods, on these hills of sand,

I have flown from the other window of myself

to become white heron, blue whale,

         red fox, hedgehog.

Oh, sometimes already my body has felt like the body of a flower!

Sometimes already my heart is a red parrot, perched

among strange, dark trees, flapping and screaming.