Unabashed Paean

Daily new crocuses push their way through the moist soil, and

A fall of ivory petals sheathes the swooping vine-like

Feathered branches of the old tree along the walk. Song

Fills my throat and aches to burst free; villanelles and

Odes dance in my brain, whispering, chanting spring.

Do you feel it, my dears? Do you feel the blood racing

Its sudden course? If you do, you will find a sweet body and

Lay yourselves down in the grass amid crushed daffodils,

Singing silently with every inch of sun-touched skin.


M.A. Mohanraj

April 12, 1996