All the world is infused with the nearness of the sun.
When it is easy to hold the idea of wellness in my mind,
I should not need this pain in my 4^th and 5^th vertebrae
to bring my mind into my body,

and my body to the light.
All that is right is in renewal.

The smell of green,

cold on the warm tendrils of the wind,

rebels against concrete.

This is not the time for wool or windows or clogged streets.

This is a day made for movement,

a time to find stillness.

A day that the wind has made turn in on itself

so that time seems not to be in contest with the thirst for leisure.

I am above the jangle of keys

which sounds too near to birdsong.

I am beyond the rude tick tocking

faint in my periphery.

I am here,

for once,

in this—

04/12/2004

Author's Note: Not actually an Easter thing. I wrote this on the first warm day.

Posted on 04/12/2004
Copyright © 2025 Lacy D Phillips