Divination

The sun is back

kissing my eyelids 

burnishing my hair 

with copper and dark gold

to twist in among the veins

of white that the winter

has left in his footpaths

the scent of the earth 

is returning and the birds

are speaking to each other

and the lost leaves from 

the fading hours of autumn 

are tumbling down the hill 

under my feet the wet earth 

is soft and I press into the mud

like a child exalting in the sounds 

of my feet sinking 

I am searching for the vernal pools 

that I may lean over their 

ephemeral surface and 

gaze into the depths 

to prophecy the coming 

of the evenings of summer

where the woods begin 

the day is beautiful 

and I am part of it 

I can smell the water lying

over the dull ground and 

feel the twigs and bark relax

in their composted beds

it is possible to look out 

from the pinnacle to see

the seasons turning 

as spring leaps up and 

winter leans back 

upon his crystal chair 

and the sky

falls down in its curtain 

blue like cornflowers.

Photo courtesy of David McCaskill

https://500px.com/photo/302997995/Vernal-Pool-by-David-McCaskill/