Spring

It is a new light, breathing upon the fields, the great stirring of colors, where the soft touch of morning paints the world once again. Each flower tells secrets, each blade of grass trembles in the heart’s exuberance. Everything waits, young, like a gentle sigh waiting to bloom, into the wild ocean of love: so touch me, softly, sweetly– for we turn just like these petals, where life can whisper anew.

• Rainer Maria Rilke