March Lion Adios

Jim didn't realize he provided the inspiration for the last line in today's poem

when he told me that he carried out a wee, newborn lamb 

from his truck this morning, as he unloaded sheep

 at a New Jersey meat-processing plant...

'Aw! what happens to a baby lamb in a place like that?!' I asked.

 Jim said the person he met said 'we may be a rough environment 

but we take care of these little guys. 

If we are able, we find the mother and put them in a pen

 until they are taken to a new home!'

March is no lamb today, but rather, a lion!

Let's give him a hearty slap on the rump and send him on his welcome way! 

(after a week where he seemed intent on one last hefty hurrah!)

He has switched today's tune/roar from freezing rain to snow...

The other day there was no denying it; the aftermath of a blizzardy bluster

was still very beautiful...

March Lion rakes the tress of trees. Ah, let him roar

And lunge and claw and fret the firmament that waits to pour

In warmer, gentler breeze o-er violet-dappled hills

Ah, let him rage and growl and sneeze, and waken daffodils

And chimes in lily bells, and climes, blush, gold and green

And perches/porches, where we pause a bit with picnic lunch between

…as nature’s orchestra of bird and brook and bee

And wind wafting through woodlands swathed in mint-frothed filigree

Entertains and delights, as budded bowers brim

As stark silhouettes blur as barren limbs burst into hymn

And 'earth’s fulness thereof' swells with hope’s renewed lays

Where winter is forgotten in worlds besotted with praise

Ah, let him seethe and rage and pelt the windowpane

With frozen tears; ah, let him fiercely shake his mangled mane

And thrash the air with brash retaliation, for

March Lion feels the friendly fervor of spring at his door

Where soon sidewalks will wear new mother’s pushing prams

And verdant meadow fair will host the dash and dance of lambs

© Janet Martin

Ps.24:1

The earth is the LORD'S, and the fulness thereof; 

the world, and they that dwell therein.