The Tune of Spring
For the sleepy
bugs and fliers
There comes
a time:
After winter’s sleep
is over,
Sprouts are
up and spry.
Buds are swelling,
juices flow,
Gone is
the wintry gloom…
And before you
even know it —
Gardens are
abloom!
Next the air
fills with sounds,
With the chirpy
buzz —
There comes
a light-winged chorus
In the lands
of grass.
Just like me:
the shell’s discarded,
A dainty moth
is born,
I shall set forth
on my journey —
to a well-known
door.
I would fly
around your house —
Hark
the heartful call!
And I’d heave a sigh,
half-smiling —
There…
after all.