Awake in the Garden

moments of clarity

Walking on the path,
sunlight kissing me gently,
usually missed

life behind the glass,
to emerge through such a place,
dreaming through bare feet

warm morning, clear sky;
haze-touched brave buds bursting forth,
spring has made its stand

far off tree, pink lace;
she blooms in other gardens,
mine, just for a glance

stalks long and shining,
matted mat of new grown grass
slow to remember

buds burst, bright flashes,
crimson yellow staccato;
fanfare for fresh air

back along the path,
light like warm hands on shoulders,
glad to see you too.