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My ears are filled with the rope-pulled bells
Loosely hanging in the steeple and
I lower my eyes, allowing the rhythmic exultation
To play tunefully.

Plush bird chorus
Cracks the birth of morning
By soothing strands
Stroked in velvet glove.

The sweetness of the dawn air
Brushes my cheek, senses
Warmth to my blood.

Melody in the rain drops
Which fall tenderly onto thirsty
Unfurling green blades.

Sodden muck is caked upon my soles and
I hungrily inhale the cold earthy texture
Till my lungs crack with the newness.

Stooping to kneel
And stretching my fingers into the dirt
I hear the last clamour of peals a
Bold clarion
Upon countryside too beautiful to believe.

I imagine my reflection mingled in the richness of the mulch
In clearness of where I am risen.

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