Spring's Awakening

The sun spills warmth, a slow awaken,

december's shroud at last has been shaken.

I wander streets where puddles gleam,

a honeyed light feels like a dream.

Buds sprout fierce on every tree,

as if to say, 'Come out and see!'

I halt to gaze, a silly smile,

a feathered note from a bird’s own style.

Moments stretch like shadows that lean,

reminding me of spaces between,

my heart breaks open in sudden flight,

in the warmth, everything feels right.