OPENING

When April buds are struggling to mature
behind the dark green solitude of night,
some silent thing persuades them to endure.
A soundless voice describes the early light,
the way a morning rain will sound on trees, 
the freshness of a day that's just begun,
the feel of the patient feet of bees
and how the petals throb  in midday sun.
Every bud must come to what it knows - 
opening itself as daylight nears.
Whether dew is born inside the rose
or that first touch of gold has caused the tears,
displaying its full beauty to the sky
is all a flower needs, then it may die.