Ostara

That lingering scent on the morning breeze,
light and fragrant as it skips across the lawn,
there like a hint of soft mist in the trees;
it plays on the senses and then is gone

as each new blossom opens to the world,
its tender silken strands embrace the wind
and the spirit of Shakti is unfurled,
its sensuous perfume released again.

Now the waiting earth awakens once more
to the firm touch of the Divine Mother,
as from behind a veil of illusion
she soaks each living thing through to the core;
and there just beyond your sense of Other
unites all life in Her light's diffusion.

20 APR 2003