To  Spring
For John Keats

O Hopeless World, interred beneath hibernal snow,
Blinded by antediluvian night,
Deafened by the silence down below
The horizon's hollow hint of light,
Boost your spirit eyes to celebrate
The return of clamor to the reticent earth,
A time for fecundity to calibrate
The reformation and rebirth
Of verdancy and caterwaul,
Infant voices responding to a parent's call,
Thrusting stalks below the canopied sprawl.

Somnolent Beings, I summon you awake,
Wipe the gravel from your stony eyes,
Overcome the idled hours and undertake
The reclamation of the sunrise.
Daffodils and Tulips, poke your heaving heads
Above the now-receding snows,
Mark your presence in your bulging beds,
Signal to the brambly rambling rose 
To rise and raise his quiet voice
Along the forest floor, urging trees to make the choice
To spread their leaves and vines their tendrils hoist.      

Soporific Souls, from your burrows rise,
Issue from the honey-hungered hive.
Ruby breasted Robin, rhapsodize,
Sing Reveille so raucous and alive 
It moves me to arise and say my daily prayer,
Wash my face and comb my shock of hair,
Get me quickly down the kitchen stair,
To clothe me in my linen suit and saddle up the mare.
It's time to join the music of the land,
Enjoy a concert by the vibrant, vernal band
Now that Winter's gone and Spring has made its stand.

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