spring awakening

the rites of Spring remain,
fast budding trees
and birds, berserk
in clarifying rain,

that makes the roof
sound and sound again-
at night I mean-
the ancient patter
found in sleep-waking,
gathering in a faze,
and then, 
a seeming second later,
a smudge of green
in the upstart dawn-
sheer fecund joy-
my unsteady gaze
poring for feature.
spring, the bringer,
shepherd of what's been
and what will be, 
reminding some, like me, 
a trio of seasons 
done,
that only an unending winter
is to come.