Proleće (Spring)
Part 1: Proleće from behind a window
It came one morning
When I was asleep it came
I opened my eyes to a
flood of sunlight
crystal sky
kissing breeze.
Lo, darkness had faded away
Faded away
Given way to the power of light.
Curtains slipped through my fingers
To the window was my forehead pressed
I closed my eyes
And let tears stain the glass
— the glass was cold
The sun was warm
The sun was hot.
It was golden! — it washed my face in gold
It was light
I could feel light
Power
The power of life.
Part 2: Proleće from beneath trees
She skipped through the tall grass
The hem of her white linen brushing over the blades
I followed.
The world flew past
by me
around me
through me
into me.
I heard laughter
Everything was blurry
was spinning.
I brushed my hands over those blades
Like the hem of her white linen
My steps took me onward
I was running
I was not running
I was dancing
I was not dancing
I was flying.
The trees rustled above
Rays of sunlight flickered through them
A million flashes
Through a million leaves
— I smiled
As my fingers brushed the rough bark of a trunk.
There was a scent in the air
Of something fresh
Something from long ago
That I had once forgotten
That I no longer forget
Nor remember.
We fall to the grass
watch clouds
finger buds
pick dandelions
feel our heartbeats.
Laughter again
My eyes are closed
There are hands on my shoulders
Breath in my ear.
Part 3: Proleće from along sidewalks
One by one they slide past
— they’re faces, human faces
they smile
they blink
they turn away.
‘Tis a cold wind blowing through these streets
Winding through alleyways
— an airy serpent —
It slithers around buildings
Buildings colored pastel
With marble busts agape
With marble figures adance.
Sunlight glitters on concrete
I run my fingers over graffiti stains
I stop and ponder scene
after scene
after scene.
There is a wrinkled face with the brightest eyes
There are raven locks whipped by the wind
Webs of dead branches tipped with life
Shoes stepping on crosswalks
Ashes floating in the breeze.
I walk on
The cries of children in my ears
Against the background of
That gentle cacophony of urban traffic
Knocking over
A basket of
apricots, their juice a sweet syrup
Glinting in the afternoon sun.
Part 4: Proleće from beneath stars
The starry host
They’re a great choir
One great choir
Of silence.
I could hear their singing
As we lay on the cool grass
Our arms outstretched
Embracing the sky.
All over the earth
There are whispers — thousands of whispers
The cricket’s song
The katydid’s chant
The bird’s lullaby
The mother’s goodnight.
I heard them all that night
All at once.
The world is alive
The world is born again
The world is hushed
in anticipation.
For now it is dark
And night is the time to dream
Of what will take place on the following day:
Buds will unfurl
Wings will poise and take flight
Water will dance and roar before the sun
A dragonfly’s wings will reflect a rainbow
— the story of spring will be retold
As it has
For a time longer than our lives.
Like a hand pressed against a pane of glass
So I reached for the void
Stretched above us
Spinning ever so slowly
Dancing the steady waltz of time
Too slow to perceive
Yet too swift to risk
Letting your eyes close
Before they fade away.
I reached for it
And somehow
On that strange, fragrant night
My feeble hand
Though many a light year away from their burning crowns
I knew had touched
Their eternal glow
If for only one fleeting instant.
May the immortal touch the mortal!
May the light touch the dark!
May life touch death!
May sunlight touch the frost and
May spring touch the winter.
