The Green Man Lives

The Green Man Lives

Hear the silent drumbeat

see the unknown sound

feel the pulse

of rivers underground;

of sap that runs through veins

of a billion leaves.

Unearthly music

in the turning of leaves

A scattering of milkweed

silk seed glide.

Breathe sweet warmth

honey sun on skin enters in.

Touch earth with soles of feet.

Lie down where marigolds grow.

Breathe in leaf mold­­—

the green man lives.

--Barbara Spring

This poem is from my book Between Sweetwater and Sand that will be published soon.

Returning Home

Salmon leaping the dam at Ludington, MI

Basic Instincts

Goslings follow the leader—
waddling after an imprint.


Veed geese fly home
the arctic tern,
the hummingbird,
and bright eyed warblers
fly to their tropical havens.
Lake trout swirl at river mouths
then race upstream.
American eels return from the sea
to freshwater streams.


Undersea
lobsters march in single file—
they know exactly where


they are going.
And we humans also know
where we are going


God’s green imprint is
upon our hearts. 
               
 --Barbara Spring

Excerpted from my book: Sophia's Lost and Found: Poems of Above and Below