Ostara

Into the springs refreshed winds

I send my skin, shed anew;

A liberating experience,

creating myself,

a bloom, expanding in the sun

like the new flowers poking fragile heads

out from beneath the earthy mantle

they tuck themselves into.

Year long, the wait, primitive and patient

waiting for the right moment,

right mixture of warmth and water,

and sheer luck, too.

Like the flowers, I wait.

Waiting for just the right moment

of warmth and luck

that brings me to these very moments

of blossom, of unfurling,

of something new.