Spring and Cynthia

 

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Spring!
Your expanding essence exudes
From every pore of every living thing,
And all things seem endowed with the Miracle of Life!

Trees,
Their sides tickled by riverlets of melting snow,
Toss their shaggy heads in helpless mirt
Mounds of snow,
Like naughty children with dirty faces,
Are smiled on by mother Sky . . .

Streets,
A maze of mighty, surging rivers,
Placid lakes, and vast oceans,
Are populated
With stick boats, navigated by stern Captains
Engaged in mortal combat;
Carrying treasures to far off romantic places;
Or setting new world's speed records.

All these things
Fill me with the warmth and joy of the goodness of Life,
But they all fade into the depths of my memory
When I think of you . . .
For then,
The warmth of a hundred suns encompasses me
And my very being must expand to contain the thought of you!

I smile
At the remembrance of the touch of your cheek
And your lips,
The warm clasp of your hand that says so well
What must elude the harshness of mere words.

When I dwell on these things, I feel no longer alone.
And yet,
Much more alone...
For I may lose you.

by: Cal Bezemer
Kansas City, Mo
1959