Chilled, from deep winter’s freeze
the winds whosh and whistle
sending leaves and debris hip scotching along
barren branches twist and turn
remembering Chubby Checker!
(C’mon everybody, let’s do the twist!)
Wrapped against the chill
I freeze out in the wind
and melt in sun drenched lee spots
Cold, hot!  Cold, hot!
It’s springtime on the prairie!
The winter browned grass is waking
steadily climbing through the thatch
it’s green green green coming!
Buds are swelling,
so tender yet so strong
life will soon burst
into the magnificance of Easter
Color will splash the earth
and mother earth will open
to welcome the seeds of promise
I can’t but help wondering
if winter gets piled up somewhere
far and farther to the East
where the April winds blow it
Is it a giant earth game
where seasons hide and seek
to suddenly shout “You’re it!”
While governments muddle and stumble
the powers above us move
surety abounding
we can but respond
amend our plans as needed
to tune ourselves
to play in the orchestra
so small a part
so small our voice
Yet, together
our tiny voices can sail
singing with the winds
soaking in the sun
seeing and drinking in the seasons
we set our sails…
Lin 4/2014