Musings by The Poet Loriet

Spring Fever

This time of year
always reminds me of you,
your face peering in
as I fling open my windows
and inhale jasmine
from the crisp breeze.

Sunlight caresses me.
I close my eyes,
listen for a birdsong.

Do you remember me?
Spring was when
we fell in love,
and I never got a chance
to tell you goodbye,
thank you for
your bravery.

You were gone
as the first
rainbow-colored leaf
fell to the ground
to die.

After a dark winter,
I peeked out shyly,
and you were that
ray of sunshine that
coaxed me to come play.

You made me believe
in myself again,
and I flung wide
doors that had been
closed and bolted,
chains fastened
in chastity.

You were there
for my rebirth,
your proud tears
trickled down
glowing cheeks.
You were beautiful.

Then, without a sound,
as if in a black and white
old-time movie,
you walked out,
and shut the door,
but I won't forget.
You will always be
my initial rescue breath.

Your mask lies crumpled
on the delivery-room floor
with tattered paper strings,
but...

I know who you are.
You're my hero.

Thank you for saving my life,
delivering me
from perpetual winter
into the incredible
lightness of being
free.



Lori Beal


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Spring Fever

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