Spring Time

the cosmic equinox resounds

as Earth’s old clock stumbles 

and warps to the weft of climate change

whilst winter’s grasping fingers 

reluctantly loosen their grip

survival and life are yet uncertain

summer’s both a distant memory

and a tantalising promise

as the revolution against monochrome begins

a warm caress from the low sun 

wakens a bumble bee queen 

to stretch her wings and build her empire

and a lone song thrush

pours liquid provocation

across a bleak supermarket carpark

whilst millions of feathered migrants 

commence perilous journeys to join us

our spangled starlings must take their leave -

heading east to herald the Russian spring.

I pray that a white dove join their midst

to exalt their murmurations for peace