Seasons (Spring) Poem by Alto Lee Thomas, Jr.

From nothingness in dreamless slumber
Three-quarter-year devoid of light.
Thought wakens spawned from gurgled voices
Whispered … yet … similiar sources,
Familiar...familial…ancestral…filial

Each voice imparts some ancient wisdom.
In satchels packed for journey’s end
Surrounded by a genteel throbbing
Slowly drums the tympanum…
D’dum, … d’DUM, …d’DUM, …D’dum.

Upward…, onward, rhythm driven.
Compelled by roiling dream to motion.
No longer at ease in shapeless mass
Too cumbersome … but more …at last.

The genesis of consciousness.
Attracted to the sucking dawn
Expelled into its vacuous yawn
Pushed and pulled forth from the night
To flow on dreams into the light
…on crimson streams into the light.