Ode to April
Ode to April (Urdvha Dhanurasana)
Oh, April. I’d recognize you anywhere,
your somersaults and backbends
spreading the good news all over town
like some fabulous wheel drunk on new flowers.
April, you miracle month
when the crocuses peek up, singing,
What was all the fuss? We’ve been here all along.
April, bending towards the warm wind
and zig-zagging all around like a bee
so blissed out, so blessed by winter’s end
it doesn’t know where to begin feasting.
April, breathless rolling down, down, down the hill
gleeful child covered in new grass and mud laughing.
April, who wakes before dawn to birdsong
spontaneously thankful for that spring smell
that makes you roll down the windows
throw open the doors, wave on the other drivers
at the four-way stop that made you so cranky
back in March. Back in March!
A million marches ago when life was all struggle.
April, you month of nowness,
when everything emerges
from the dark womb, demanding a name
as if for the first time – lamb, tulip, sky.