Good Friday
I woke this morning morning's mistress
In gentle wonder spring addressed
Spring in glory, spring a-gallop—
O sing of spring and live and dance!
The trees move with us and the greening
Ever rolling hills come calling
High there, beyond beyond the earthy red—
Ecstasy! We swing out, we surrender
As a cloud's puff smooths out and over: light and free
We cannot grasp it. My heart and head try to hold it--
The hiding thriving mystery!
Sage verbage and cerebral art, pride, act, and pomp, here
Break! And the breath that emanates from spring then, infinitely
Lovelier and more vigorous, more airy than contained.
No doubt about it: sheer air we breathe the breath of
Spring, and orange-pink twinkles in the grass
Grow, shore themselves, and burst gold-vermillion.
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Painting by Joan Mitchell
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