Equinox

To dance and sing in golden glades

by brilliant day, to warm the soul.

In silver pools, by night, to wade,

in kinship with the ancient cold.

When years are long, our Springtime fades,

these briefest ecstasies, we'll hold

the closest to our hearts. Gainsaid,

they could not be, nor sold

for all the jewels and comforts paid

to the richest, wisest kings of old.

The leaves fell not when the branches swayed,

and ever was their story told.

🌺

For sunlight through the windowpane,

cool water soothing thirsty skin,

the laughter ringing clear and plain

of children who have known no sin —

these things, no evil could profane,

nor slander, bind, or hold within.

For all the joys therein contained

will ever burst forth and force a grin.

And even, as elders, when our moxie wanes,

we'll watch with aplomb, never chagrin,

for the seeds we've sewn have drunk the rain

and a flourishing anew begins.