I want the hoar frost
turn to sparkling dew -
I want the park lawn
rich in blue armies of crocuses
that march
through blades
of shiny grass – untouched..
I want the daffodils unite
and fight the primroses
for the rays of light –

To the shy sun
I want to raise my chin
and whisper:
”where have you been?"
I want a blackbird
wake me up at dawn
presenting proudly
its breakfast worm -
I want to open doors
to a wayward bee –
because – it is already
spring in me.