The Vernal Spring


Palm trees swaying in the breeze.

The clouds drifting through the tropical sky.

The spring winds are pushing them along,

As they push time into the summer.

Reef, sand, surf;

all of these clichéd staples of this climate.

I see them; I hear them.

For me the most exciting goal is not the excitement of the beach.

It is the quiet contentment of this spring day.

Or rather, not the quiet, but the symphonic sounds of nature.

The waves wash ashore in their steady cadence.

The tide ebbs and flows at a speed far too low for human eyes,

but with its consistency.

The rapid breathing of the ocean and the slow swelling of the tide.

They both carry on in their cycle and I in mine.

Here—now—happiness is a drink in my hand and breath in my lungs.

Listen and you can hear the birds tweet their rhapsodies.

Smell and the salt fills your lungs.

See and the leaves’ shadows dance o’er the sand.

Oh would I that it last forever.

 

But already the sun has swung as the pendulum across the sky.

In but a moment the shade will have succeeded in inching away from me.

My favorite spot will still be here but will have disappeared.

Nothing in this world is permanent.

I have not moved and yet I will soon be in a different spot,

in the sun instead of the shade.

I have committed myself to savoring the moment and have not moved.

But still the world has moved around me.

Will it not give me even this much?

 

Today the first day of spring,

and tomorrow the countdown until the next one.

The cycle begins afresh.

The sun in its quick cycle across the sky,

And the Earth in its slow circle around.

Until next year, my dear friend.

Until I can be with you again.

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