This is the kind of day,
The sap just rising, buds just starting to crack
(if you look up close)
The snow drops pushing their white bells through the last rinds of snow…

This is the kind of day,
The earth just softening and the streams breaking free
The bitter north-east wind turning at last
Into a soft south wind caressing our faces…

This is the kind of day
That makes us want to find
A slow-rising path through tall pines dancing in the wind
Hoping to emerge on a high bluff overlooking a winding river
And let the wind blow through our long flowing tresses
(and today we want long flowing tresses)

This is the kind of day
That makes us want to turn our faces up to the just-warming sun
And drink in life.

It’s that kind of day.