Sap's Rise

The creek retreats from flood rage
to its summer voice, trees
shake out leaves, turn the page
from dark and cold to seize
on green directions, now
blackbirds float from bough to bough.

Sap’s rise wakes an old tune.
Almost persuaded now I hear
rustle, whisper, sight and soon
flowers burst from bud, eager
to return again to this new start
where violence detonates and bursts the heart.