Spring Poems by Michael Burch

SPRING WAS DELAYED

Winter came early:
the driving snows,
the delicate frosts
that crystallise

all we forget
or refuse to know,
all we regret
that makes us wise.

Spring was delayed:
the pallid rose,
the orchid-like sun,
the wind’s soft sighs,

all we omit
or refuse to show,
whatever we shield
behind guarded eyes.

THERE'S A STIRRING AND AWAKENING IN THE WORLD

There’s a stirring and awakening in the world,
and even so my spirit stirs within,
imagining some Power beckoning—
the Force which through the stamen gently whirrs,
unlocking tumblers deftly, even mine.
The grape grows wild-entangled on the vine,
and here, close by, the honeysuckle shines.
And of such life, at last there comes there comes the Wine.

And so it is with spirits’ fruitful yield—
the growth comes first, Green Vagrance, then the Bloom.
The world somehow must give the spirit room
to blossom, till its light shines—wild, revealed.
And then at last the earth receives its store
of blessings, as glad hearts cry—More! More! More!