Mingled Meandering Thoughts on Spring

Spring has come
upon the winds of movements
in the song of birds
and the delight of lovers
holding each other’s breath
in waiting
for the soul-exchange
to mingle in the expectation
of life
me pause to
consider the fruits of ages past…
this hand
in that hand
and whose hand
but mine in hers
is anymore complete
at the coming of spring?
all seeds rise towards the sun and
as all love breathed
is love and can be
nothing else so
to is the seed of
my soul in her;

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