RENAISSANCE

Sloppy brush strokes of sky,
Quirky ink lines of a branch,
This whisper of a newborn spring
Reflected in antique mirror
Of a forest lake framed in a damp moss
Inhale the resurrection of sun
And unleash the wild you
Here is to dancing under the warm rain,
Here is to singing the songs of the nymphs
Disappearance, I salute you
With transcendental exaltation