I’m a bed of tulips born anew—
smooth-soft-shaking-off soil.
Velvet petals bursting from stems,
young and rosy—dressed in pink.
I’m a tree—green leaves regrown.
Dancing in the gusty winds, ready
for a winter storm. Rich, rich, rich
in honey-gold sap, I’ll share
if you ask. I’m an unsplit lark singing
with diamond-bright shimmer,
with joy in the crests and troughs.
Hear my song—I’m flying.
I’m a human in these woods, ready
to work and to loaf and to love
life. I see the tulips, the tree, the lark—
I know them and I thank them. I drink
the Moon with my starry-eyes. I celebrate
her forever-glow. Oh! I am ready to live.
