Spring equinox

We made it. 

Slugging through the cold months, 

heavy-limbed and chilled to the bone. 

It felt long, didn't it, 

our hibernation, 

our time to charge the battery of the soul. 

We are ready to emerge

from the ashes of winter. 

The day and night are equal here - 

our turning point of the year, 

filling us with hope, and love. 

Now we might get an excited text from a friend:

"It's still light at 6pm!"

We book holidays, we plan for weekends spent outside. 

We think it's warmer than it actually is, 

and learn the hard way in the shade. 

Coats go on,

off, on, off, on,

perhaps staying in a bag,

coming out for the day with us

because we forget each March

that it goes from warm to cold to warm

in a flash. 

Foamy blossom tells us to look up. 

Magnolias flower ripe and

fall fast in fresh winds, 

a momentary show. 

Camellias burst with colour. 

The grasses send their new green shoots upwards. 

Peonies send crimson fingers 

up out of the death of last year's stems. 

The ash tree's seed pods hang and sway, tiny bats. 

Remember the bulbs we planted,

plunged dry and unremarkable 

in autumn soil, 

wondering if they would come to anything?

Well here they are, 

pushing up, 

daring to live,

desperate to feel the touch of sun. 

We are coming out of the gloom 

in a blaze of colour, 

like the nodding daffs on roadsides, 

the blossom on the trees, 

the crocuses in the park. 

They all remember to wake up

each spring and carry on. 

Our power grows with each minute of light

each day, 

we wake up.

We carry on.