ode to the coming spring. | a poem

Your toes
in the grass growing more lush by day
the deep green
vast before us.

(Your first spring.)

Crisp evenings
inviting us to sit
beneath the maple trees,
your small body
growing, curling into sleep in my arms;
the fresh air breeze
sings a lullaby among the leaves.

Your eyes
follow the crimson cardinal across
the cloudless sky for the first time.

My heart
is full to bursting to see you
fall in love with the colors of
spring
and earth

to fall in love with life.