The First Daffodil

In the Spring

memories blow like wind

through the corners of my soul

replacing the dark winter

which time has now beset

Playing its distant lute

change is thrust upon me

rebirthing what fall had rightly claimed

and buried in the past 

Visions of dancing June bugs

they fervently surround me

mating my wonderment with joy

as summer waits untilled

The whirlwind dharma 

that so haunts my dreams

left comatose and vacant

freeing me for what’s to come

—and what has always been

(Bryn Mawr College: March, 2023)