Spring's Free Will

The fresh sunrise projects yellow, orange, pink,
And reflects its sparkle on the morning dew.
Dribbles of sun appear in small doses,
Creating an impossible iridescent hue.
As we awaken to the blue jay’s song,
It cuts through the air, crisp and chill.
The scent of grass floats up and hangs,
A constant stream of soil by the windowsill.

Afternoon sky needs one more shade of gray,
As overcast creeps over the trees and ground.
Raindrops of speed slow down in the haze,
Making a soft spoken speech of pattering sounds.
The flowers dance and sway in their occasional shower,
And blossom to open themselves up to the world.
Buds attached to branches sing one last time,
Before they create their luscious color swirl.

Night falls as the ground turns dry then moist,
Like a navy blue blanket dotted with diamonds.
The air cools to a chill for lightning bugs and gnats,
To expand their groups and limit their findings.
Life goes to shelter as the mood sets in,
For catching bundles of thoughts in images of dreams.
The time of spring still floats on its way,
As life lies its head down and drifts off to sleep.