The golden field, barren from winter’s dessicating death rattle, awaits the arrival of Spring
With its whispering sunlight, wet newly unfurled leaves and crystal melt water
That charges across the shimmering fertile plain like wild white stallions freed from months of pitch and an absense of sound,
Their hooves pounding the earth back to life,
And in their thundering wake, ejaculating renewal onto the earth in an abundance of green and gold.