Let my heart melt and flow,
A blue flower for the pink sounds.
Can you see the vines growing, twisting,
     As the flowers open:
Bud and leaf?
The trees in the afternoon
Were donned in a white delicacy of buds.
The thick, lush grass beneath
Turned the dark green of life.
And I stood with the branches about me,
Looking to the meadow also,
With a smile on my face.
And I was one of the trees too,
And a great sound swept over me
As the gale poured over the grass and branches
Like a waterfall of Power.
And if my golden hair was tangled in the sunlight,
It was no more so than my heart,
Its tendons twisted about my thoughts,
Each vein flowing warm passion
Over my impressions.
My blood is as lush in spring
As the grass I wade through,
As warm as the spring sunlight,
As pure and sweet smelling as the tree buds,
As forceful as the wind,
As peaceful as the meadow,
As cheerful as the run,
As tranquil as the shade,
As all-entwining as the wind,
As tangled as my hair.
         Springtime is in my very being,
         And my skin smells of chlorophil
                              and garlic.
Mud is beneath my fingernails, and do I care?
My feet are wet from puddles, and does it matter,
When all the world is singing harmonies in my ear?
When the sunlight warms my frozen mind
And the birds fly overhead,
Passing southward.
The brown eyes of the earth watch me,
The blue iris in the white sclera of the clouds,
The green gaze of the grass,
And the trees are yawning and stretching.
They awake one by one,
Flowers open to the life about them.
    Spring is in my bones, warming them.
        Blood hot as sunlight
             On an emerald hill.




My heartbeat is heavy
With the meal in my blood.
It is like a hammer
Pounding the ground.

My blood is warm in my veins,
A lively color.
It is like a scarlet blanket
To cover my chilly bones.

Why would I need a man's arms
When the warms of my own veins
Entwine my tendons with warmth?






¡Nunca he visto una primavera
Tan joven, tan felíz!
¡Mi sangre salta por la alegría!
¿Ves los árboles? ¿Ves sus flores?
Sonríen a la hierba,
En su sangre verde.
¿Es mi sangre de rojo o verde?
En la primavera,
¿Quién puede decir?

Photos my me, me, SEA, me. Ooh! It rhymed!