The Girl Who Walked with Spring

She wore no coat, her feet were bare,

Her hair a golden flame.

She stepped as soft as shifting air,

And none could say her name.

The blackbirds sang a sweeter tune

The moment she drew near.

She whispered something to the moon

And made the sky turn clear.

No one had seen from whence she came,

No wagon, horse, or kin.

But still she walked without a name

And brought the green back in.

She touched the elm; it bloomed anew,

Its bark no longer gray.

She kissed the air; the swallows flew

In wild, ecstatic play.

The farmers tilled with lighter hearts,

Their plows sunk soft in earth.

For in her gaze was all the arts

Of life and death and birth.

She danced alone in fields at dusk,

And flowers lined her trail.

She smelled of clover, pine, and musk,

And honey warmed with hail.

She’d sing beside the river’s bend

And make the tulips rise.

The world would break, then heal, then bend

To fit her quiet skies.

One boy asked if she’d ever stay

She shook her head and sighed.

“My time is short. I go away

As fast as I arrive.”

And still she stayed for forty days,

And everywhere she walked,

The world awoke in gold and grays

The birds, the bees, they talked.

The orchard budded overnight,

The lambs were on the hill,

And all the clouds were trimmed in light,

And all the winds grew still.

The old ones watched with knowing eyes,

For they had seen her face

Not hers alone, but every guise

Of springtime’s brief embrace.

Then just as fast, she slipped from view,

One morning drenched in sun.

No one could find a trace or clue

Just petals, and then none.

The children searched the forest’s edge,

The farmers checked the field.

They found her wreath beside a hedge,

And violets on a shield.

And every spring when breezes call,

The village speaks her name

Though she was never known at all,

The season knows her claim.

So plant your seeds and tend with care,

And let the robins sing.

She walks the earth with perfumed air

The girl who comes with spring.