“I remember days that felt like it was raining daises.”
John Sebastian “She’s a Lady”
The ancient shamans knew much more:
That the year divides into more than four.
There are seasons that the earth defines
That live inside the astral lines.
These fleeting chapters last for hours
And have within them fearsome powers
Some with water, some with drought
But none that we could live without.
And on this day it’s blossom time
They fill the trees like clouds sublime
And magic perfume fills the air
Reminding men of angel’s hair.
Reminding men of pleasure’s pain
And whisp’ring it may come again.
To taste it they will wake the dawn
And rush their way to orchard lawn.
And stretch to clutch the brightened limb
And stop their hearts to take it in.