On the eve of spring, you sway from willow's wing
to meet me at our own arched, glowing garden.
Do not think, do not look for sky's warm approval.
Release years of tension. Let go, empty your pockets
of the knots you've been tying in hopes of keeping us.
There is still a proposal to be made, for we shall dance
with dusk's ballad, touched by budding reflections
that shape our movement in silent, beautiful tenderness.
Never forget the kindness and gentleness of spring,
how we have become nourished by obliging to this world.
