Spring Cleaning

I will ask rain to bless the bear claws
that I wrapped in purple silk and hid
in my desk drawer. I will light candles
since garden seeds have arrived. I will
drink mint tea to purge bellyaches
while I free pent-up, pushed-down dreams.
I will respect the magic of words. I will
visit the woods to memorize how sunlight
touches every tree, stone and weed
from dawn to dusk. On Leap Year Day,
we left the town my family never left.
So I will honor our journey and the years
we’ve lived on the edge of wilderness.
And yet, I wake from winter slowly,
every morning of my life.