You can't depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus!

I hear

at the boundary of winter

a nudging of sprouts

to the warm applause

of the sun.

I sing

pouring fresh water

into the slime birdbath

as the slick contingency

of the soil burns

into my voice.

inside the house

I see butterfly spirits

waltz in through the walls

their slim frames

colours of sumac and sunrise

green-dancing.

at night

dreams of rivers

of burning wild rue

at the instant of the equinox

lace through my bones.

I am waiting

aching to see goldfinches

in the conifers of my garden

drink-seeking landing

fluffing in the birdbath

their shadow-play

shaping the light

to the contours

of my day.

©2008, Azadeh Azad