Flowering
In the lengthening days of early spring,
among the vanishing snowshadows,
I hear new bird songs, see geese overhead,
and greet the long-awaited return of smells.
Trees light their little green sparklers,
and I walk among them.
Then the great flowering procession begins:
first the gentle, snow-defiant crocuses,
and the hyacinth, low and easy to miss,
then the forsythia, the dogwood, dandelions
and daffodils, followed in proper order
by the tulips and the flowering trees,
crabs and cherries, and the azaleas.
Little purple things, and white ones, dot the yard.
Finally the lilacs bloom, and I walk among them.
The catalpa tree will blossom much later,
and I will stand beside it as well.
Among flowering beings, softly opening,
with billowing wonders, I, too, live,
with my own great unfolding.
______________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes – Unfolding Light – used with permission – www.unfoldinglight.net
life: acoustic & amplified 
Today
BY BILLY COLLINS
If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze
that it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the house
and unlatch the door to the canary’s cage,
indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,
a day when the cool brick paths
and the garden bursting with peonies
seemed so etched in sunlight
that you felt like taking
a hammer to the glass paperweight
on the living room end table,
releasing the inhabitants
from their snow-covered cottage
so they could walk out,
holding hands and squinting
into this larger dome of blue and white,
well, today is just that kind of day.