Pocket of Spring
The river sheoaks talked of the western breeze,
but it remained calm and still were i stood.
Sheltered by the shoulders of granite stone and hairy apple gums.
I looked out,
as though looking out the window on a cold morning.
Happy and content in my little bliss bubble.
Not wanting to ever leave,
an invisible barrier set by the wind at the end of our garden.
Shimmering leaves of a poplar,
dazzling like the tail of a peacock.
The warmth of spring rides in on the wave of the afternoon sun.
It prickles my hair as i catch pockets through the filtering gums.
The grass is cooling under foot,
the night now imminent.
Just a soul willing to float with nature,
the frequency of the season and the love of the energy in it.
© Deon Heemskerk 26-10-2012