LATE SPRING, MONHEGAN

 Urgent old ferry girl.
determined through the rollers
hurled at her from Nova Scotia.
Never ending engine drumbeats on,
surging through suffocating fog.
Holding the gunnels to feel your pulse–
deliver me up to Monhegan.

 First step on is surrender.
Second step on is the end of
measured time.

 The innocence of the flowers
left to dance uninhibited
in spring frenzy, wild wonder,
unharmed by any indifference.
The singing of waters, and
the breathing of trees.
The incense of evergreen,
and the colors of hard light.

 Slip on that root that looks like gold
out on the Red Ribbon path
and fall into total mystery.

 Raven laughs from skeleton tree, white
with the salt of knowing.

 Passing through, not staying,
flying their royal banners:
Indigo Bunting,
Scarlet Tanager,
Goldfinch,
Bob-o-link,
Grosbeak with the Rose Breast,
Oriole…I hold my breath each time.

Passing through, not staying,
much like a critical part of me that
perennially appears, like the lupine,
if only for a time.

 Jenny Jensen Greenleaf