Paradisal morning, early spring tropical, the
outspread surface of the pond, dark, shifts, the air
notable for its substance, the birdsong constant in the
damp morning, and yesterday’s scores of tadpoles vanished.
Portraits – goldfinch in the bramble, rain on the pond,
orbits of skippers and spiders walking on water,
necessity of meditations this Holy Saturday, this rain-
dampened morning blessed, cleansed by the softest steady rain.
Pleasures of greens – fields, new leaves, pastures of skunk cabbage,
occurrences of repeated splashes and ripples just after the frogs have leapt;
nicknames for plants – bittersweet, virgin’s bower, pussy-toes, harebell, and
diving wobblers, the polliwogs, are back today, flashing and flaring at the shoreline.
Prelude to all night rain, the day grays, the showers begin.
Object of greening, reed-grass has begun its emergence. I will
name this grass, and the surface of the pond that throws itself north – I will
declare it motion, color, warmth, growth, occurrence, patience.
Praising the spring, the rains, the heavy clouds, the chipping sparrow,
orator of the morning, sings and sings. The ground is covered with the
nightshift workers’ mounds, industry of night crawlers and ants, and the bittercress,
diminutive beauty, turned its lights on overnight, and left them on.