March

I wrote this poem today because the weather is SO lovely! The setting is Oakbrook Park, Frisco, Texas. 

March

The trees are barren, with hardly a verdant burst,
The water trickles delicately,
Rolling over sticks and stones.

The day is warm, and yet,
A south breeze licks my face,
Cooling my body, and swelling my soul

The sky is a deep, rich blue
It beckons the birdies forth
They, however, stay on their comfortable, leafless, perches.

Basking in the warmth of the sun,
The peace of the day,
And the warm, south, breeze.

Even though these lovely things
Swell my heart and soul,
We must retire into the glades.

Here, the water is stagnant,
More thickly covered with sticks, and branches
It runs far back, into the depths of the woods.

The trees give little shade,
And the muddy banks and their brush,
Do not give much more.

These differences could paint a picture in my head,
And make the glades seem unworthy, to live in poetry,
And make the open land, a picture of successes,

I, however, am reminded that each and every corner of God's creation,
Is a masterpiece in itself, and we are blessed to have months like March,
All of it's many auras included, emitting thousands upon thousands of sensations.