Sequinox

Sequinox...

.
.

As the sun plays its games with the horizon
As the snowmelt runs over the creeks
When the trees seem to rise like the phoenix
All the colors of life start to speak

With the pallet of winter discarded
The eyes of the sleeping now blink
When the yawns of a slumbering season
Fill the air with sounds long thought extinct

The stars come out bright just for counting
The clouds but a wisp in the breeze
Goose feather flakes are replaced by the rain
To christen the skeletal freeze

I’ve bathed for so long in the darkness
With spring just a fond memory
The sun's golden rays erase whites and grays
A circle of sheer poetry