Pre-spring Poetry Thursday

A little early ... a poem for spring ... here's hoping there are no more frosts...

Very Early Spring by Katherine Mansfield

The fields are snowbound no longer;
There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green.
The snow has been caught up into the sky--
So many white clouds--and the blue of the sky is cold.
Now the sun walks in the forest,
He touches the bows and stems with his golden fingers;
They shiver, and wake from slumber.
Over the barren branches he shakes his yellow curls.
Yet is the forest full of the sound of tears....
A wind dances over the fields.
Shrill and clear the sound of her waking laughter,
Yet the little blue lakes tremble
And the flags of tenderest green bend and quiver.

And one more for good measure, in honor of my 2012 word of the year (fearless) -- necklace should be here momentarily:

A rose's rarest essence lives in the thorn. 

Rumi

[Photo credit: me, fancy digital camera; Blooming Jacaranda from the train, June 2010]