Transformation

Every year in March

I wait by the bare earth

for any sightings of your birth

bringing an ever increasing joy of abundance.

 

First there is a tiny sign, growing higher,

then a white tip and a white stem

then

one

always

comes first.

 

One beautiful little crocus

showing itself

then growing in a day

to be a little mauve bud,

then an open bloom,

then a few little buds around

and finally the sound of me

cheering the happy family.

 

(And cheering you old friend, 77 years again)
The annual arrival of Mauve Autumn Crocus