Spring Poems

 

                                    (Photo by Reimar/Shutterstock)

Spring Poems

by Dawn Pisturino

~

April Showers

I looked into the heavens

And saw the face of God.

He was a kindly gentleman

And not too very loud.

He wore a watch upon his vest

Which gave the time of day.

He looked at it: "The time has come,"

Was all he had to say.

And soon a gentle rainfall

Came from the April sky.

It kissed my wondering up-turned face

And poked me in the eye.

But then a very curious thing

Did happen at my feet.

A tiny flower sprouted up,

All blooming and complete.

It opened up its tiny leaves,

Embracing fast the rain,

And if I ever doubted God -

I never did again.

~November 25, 1985~

Spring

Spring! The vigor of new life soars in my veins!

I am free and alive and wonderful,

Free as the silly sparrow twittering in the tree-top,

Too gaily alive.

Alive as the new-sprung fountain of youth in the riverbed,

Which knows not that it is bound by grassy banks,

But runs down the waterway in a mad race for the finish.

And, wonderful as the tiny petals of a flower,

First opening up to the Father Sun

Like a virgin bride in the marriage bed.

Sun gives new life to the blood,

And blood gives new life to the body,

And the body gives new life to the soul,

Ad infinitum, ad infinitum, ad infinitum.

But every Spring plays its part as a new beginning,

And we never tire of the encore.

~1987~

Robin Red-Breast

When Robin Red-breast comes to town,

All the children dance around,

Clapping hands and stamping feet,

Happy with their little treat!

~February 2, 1987~

Dawn Pisturino

Copyright 1985-1987 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.

Poems by Wallace Stevens

 

What is Divinity

What is divinity if it can come

Only in silent shadows and in dreams?

Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,

In pungent fruit and bright, green wings, or else

In any balm or beauty of the earth,

Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?

Divinity must live within herself:

Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;

Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued

Elations when the forest blooms; gusty

Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;

All pleasures and all pains, remembering

The bough of summer and the winter branch,

These are the measures destined for her soul.

Depression Before Spring

The cock crows

But no queen rises.

The hair of my blonde

Is dazzling,

As the spittle of cows

Threading the wind.

Ho! Ho!

But ki-ki-ri-ki

Brings no rou-cou,

No rou-cou-cou.

But no queen comes

In slipper green.

BIO: Wallace Stevens (1879-1955) was a modern American poet who worked as a lawyer and businessman. As a young man, he became friends with Greenwich Village poets William Carlos Williams, Marianne Moore, and E.E. Cummings. His first poem was published by Harriet Monroe in Poetry in 1914. His first collection of poems, Harmonium, was published in 1923. Steven's poetry was considered very modern and original for its time. In 1935, after a drinking binge, he got into an argument with poet, Robert Frost. A year later, Ernest Hemingway punched him out down in Key West, Florida. In 1955, not long before his death, he won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry for his Collected Works. He still has a large following of fans.

HAPPY EASTER!