Equinox

Valley lilies kiss her winter-blushed skin,

Birthing of pastels and morning song birds

Become an invitation to breathe.

Her sun shares its melody

As his winds waltz along.

 

Kiss me your lilacs, she calls 

Across barren curves of silk. 

Carve our names into hollow bark, 

And brace the turning of Earth 

Against the fragility of delight.