April into May

This is the time of year
when I confess
to the optimism of a bright morning
rejoice
at the blossoming of possibility
give voice
to the certainty of greenness

This is the time of day
when birdsong
lifts the mood
when there’s less stillness
in the long grass
more movement
in the wood

At this time of day
you can hear
a red deer stirring
a woodcock whirring
over the burn
while the waking world waits
for the swallows to return.

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Forgetmenot, Cara Dromgoole