Listening to Faure’s Requiem on a Saturday Morning in May

When it’s my time, let me not miss                                  

springtime in Vermont. Windows open,            

thrushes, warblers, chickadees,

spangled flute songs,                                                      

and on the radio children’s voices

in an old cathedral bringing Requiem aeternam.

 

Melted I am from the white void

by the alchemy that transforms twigs and buds

to baby greens and full-leafed trees

open to the eye of the sky.

Yellow daffodils, lately entombed                                 

rise to multiply on the meadow slope.   

 

Robin couples flutter and nesting

near peach and purple tulips.

Spring lets its fledglings loose.

I move my arms, conducting orchestra

and chorus, directing last snow

everywhere else to also melt.

 

We’ve been together for so long,

the world and I.

Kyrie eleison.  How I wish to hold in mind

Mount Philo and the mountains that enclose us,

our love alive in the family of Vermont springtime,                  

Greek phrases of grace.    

 

Kyrie eleison, lord have mercy,

coming in the clear voices of children.

 

Published in “The Aurorean,” Spring/Summer, 2017 and published inBirchsong Poetry Anthology”