Emerald

The time of the emerald is upon the land.
Cool energy filling the senses, soothing the dark legacy of the long heat,
Banishing the brown grey melted pastels, a bright new pallet at the master’s command,
The bleached land healing at his touch, reborn.

Cool air settles in hollows, preparing a couch for languorous morning mist that curtains the spectacles of nature’s sacred dance.
Morning dew laid on newborn grass, moisture and fecund promise,
Clear and pure with power, renewing.

Still air propagating the sound of hidden avian pleasures, as the weakened sun breathes life into day.
Water from billowing low grey cumulous flows, the lifeblood for a new generation, nurturing the earth.
Rainbows pause over new sown seed, an outpouring of ethereal energy,
Feeding the precious green emerald of life.