Even ing

The year suspended,

               bright as a moon of hammered silver,

Portends a new season
               thickening in bare stems
               sprouting as green scissors of young crocus.

 The fresh winds uncloak our stale mind
               insistently bursting open
               to free sky, stars emblazoned.

               Kite soars unbound,
                                tumbles a dizzy sparkling whirl.

Our doors are wide open; windows smashed
               as shards of glitter sweep
                                heaven’s white new teeth.

 Leave behind your sack of mould!
               Step out unborn into the fresh night!
               Stride above the midnight blue!
               Ride the bare white horse of dawn,
                        bridled by unstained intent,
                                far beyond the snare of dream!