After an extended stillness,

motion comes slowly.

Warmth swells beneath

the surface, reminding limbs

what they were made for.

Each shuttered cloister of maple buds

shift inside their sanctuary

aching to part the folds

of their soft grey robes.

It is desire that drives this strain.

A want of transformation,

expansion beyond

the confinements of time

and temperature.

A need to awaken and expose

to light what has long been unlit.

The first bud to reveal

is often premature,

eager sap escaping

before the season allows.

A sticky beacon of protest

gleams in the early spring sun,

reflecting long-coveted


Such ambition.  Such boldness

to grow before you have been fed.

Other enterprising organisms

follow your lead and

release themselves

to chance, hoping for

a well-timed deliverance.

Fine threads of flying seeds

careen on the breeze

to unknown homes,

unexpected ends. One

seed holds fast

to your sticky exposure,

interrupted by your fearlessness,


by your stubborn urge

for rebirth.


All text copyright 2020 – Adrienne S. Wallner / Jaeger