Each arriving bird carries

a necessary piece of spring —

conical buds bursting through 

twigs of trees, sinewy blooms

gathering strength to pierce 

the mulch and frozen earth —

even the rising sun, earlier 

by minutes every day, 

borne on wings of birds

across the thawing sky

one increment at a time.

There — in that cholla —

a pair of curve-billed thrashers

weaving this year’s nest.

Wayne Lee

Friend of SoundYoga

From The Underside of Light

wayneleepoet.com