Before Spring awakens life, it awakens the landscape.
molecular change.
mist rises from snow,
hovers and clings, as if spellbound.
it stings the air,
cutting frosted panes of glass that fold and weave,
bleeding on to glistening bark,
it draws down branches naked, and
sinks back to the ground.
like a damp sponge trodden into dry earth,
water finds hidden edges,
tracing trickles and tracks in stereo,
following familiar paths,
it carves new figures never finished,
watched upon by sculptures long begun.
mountains ripple.
emerging from rocky crevasse,
the stream plunges eagerly down a short steep valley face,
before spilling in to the plump Elb.
Keine Kommentare:
Kommentar veröffentlichen