The World in Springtime
Up, take the stone stairs like you’re ten years old —
now you’re hilltop-high.
For the first time this spring
you can smell the new grass
curling shy through winter’s roots,
for the first time, sun on your thighs like touch.
The concrete’s cracked from winter’s cold but through the cracks
eleven curling heads, green shoots, summer-heralds.
Today, today is a good day for feet
firm on the waking earth, a good day
for sky-thoughts, for the wind, for your soul’s singing.
Sara Norja dreams in two languages and has a predilection for tea. Born in England and currently settled in Helsinki, Finland, she is pursuing a PhD in English linguistics. Her poetry has appeared in publications such as Goblin Fruit, Curio, Strange Horizons, Through the Gate, Niteblade, and Interfictions. Her short fiction has appeared in 365 Tomorrows, Quantum Fairy Tales and Luna Station Quarterly, and is forthcoming in the anthology An Alphabet of Embers. She blogs at http://suchwanderings.wordpress.com and can be found on Twitter as @suchwanderings.