Spring, that season after dark, natures morning.
The time for bright and early and leisurely sun.
No hurry just wait. Seeing and green shoots of nature.
Laughter in the meadow of hope and time to dream.
Away, away the wet and storm and inward bound, lattice of joyfullness
and anticipation of earths resurrection.
Down with limitedness and cut off time,
and in comes earths growth, and pastel
sky of borealis. A pastel time of colour
no plain wall but brightness and sun.
Hopes heart hears hearty hum of nature.
A divine medicine of incarnation
hinting hard and heard Resurrection.
I think of Ukraine where winter still strikes
and hardness of dark storm awaits this spring.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem