Vermont

I can see now, that the breeze
Of soft spring sight,
Fans your internal longing
For the gentle soothing of summer.

I can take in, the scented air
Of flowers and ripened fruit,
That signals a turning tide
From death, to life.

I can gaze, at the rising
Of the young ferns
And a red sun, just breaking
Over the Green Mountains

I can stretch, like the thaws
Of crystalline frost,
And Lake Champlain,
To better greet the returning birds.

I can change, to create
An entirely new me,
In a whole new world,
In which I can learn everything.