I. La primavera
The earth comes to life.
More robust and hearty.
Departing is the frozen pall
and all beneath her surface emerges.
surges of sunlight bathe,
a shower to awaken.
Thunder reverberates in great
echoes, the throes of rainstorms
to nourish and quench.
Near the gate bench a dog
barks a warning. Morning
approaches on bare feet
Shadows reach across the meadow,
the fallow fields languish in wishes
of a promised rest, her best face
presented and rendered in reds,
yellows, oranges and umber.
Slumber soon to embrace.
Silvery pizzicato, strings in vibration,
a hibernation beneath the blank cover.
Over near the rivulet, crystals form,
no warmth to keep her nimble.
The symbols her station encased,
faces rosy and ruddy, frosted and firm.
(C) Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015
Inspired by Antonio Vivaldi’s violin concertos “The Four Seasons”