Calling

Torn between overflowing
coral bells on one side, and a haze
of pale blue, yellow-starred
forget-me-nots on t’other,
I let myself be torn,
laughing with March hares
and birdsong awakening fields.

Red oak leaf buds unfurl,
await the heightening sun,
their chandelier clusters dangling
against clear sky. Heart-shaped
Miner’s lettuce speckles,
while warm yellow heads
beckon, “Taste us!”

Earth’s waters have burst.
Everything is calling
in its depth
to our depth.

Orange, black wings latch
onto veined meadow flowers
stilled by sweetness,
hanging on moments of
bliss.