The Journey Inward

The thrushes all whistle their gladsome tune,
As we emerge from Winter's gloom.
The blue jays join in with their mocking croon,
As Spring is born from Nature's womb.

Bare bushes stand as if guarding a tomb,
Sticks and leaves around them are strewn,
Sensing that change is beginning to loom.

The darkness comes, bringing a crescent moon,
Buds tight, though tomorrow they'll bloom.
Bats wing about, with a swoop and a swoon,
As Spring is born from Nature's womb.

Photo:  5.26.19, Kingwood, NJ.  By LA