It’s the way it is, it’s the way it has always been

Spring thaw, brings spring mud, ripples, birds
It’s the way it is, the way it’s always been,
Ever since: who knows when, when I was a kid.

Strange, my blood runs wild in me today
That I should dream of faces so far away
I’m sitting dimly far from Minnesota’s horizon
And hear voices, echoes, rivers, from afar.

The clouds are clear on high, endless blue
The spring sounds awaken memories, renewed
Winter stars are gone with winter snows
Birds begin to nest in trees and meadows.

Spring winds will bring some spring storms
Enough to tease Minnesota’s willow trees
With many ripples on its 10,000-lakes
Around its millions of Pines and Evergreens.

It’s the way it is, the way it has always been
Spring thaw, brings spring mud, ripples, birds
It’s the way it is, the way it’s always been,

Ever since: who knows when, when I was a kid.

I’m in Peru, as spring opens up in my home city of St. Paul, Minnesota; I know its every breath and light, when its character becomes boyish; when mother-nature bends her knees. My friends tell me the winter snows are almost gone now, they were heavy just a month ago, when I was there. I can feel the doting weather gain, romping winds, emerald green woods blossoming with life, ripe for horsing around, trekking its pathways. The fish jumping up and down, breast first diving deep into the clear lakes. I must give it a tragic kiss, for I will miss her spring, but I remember so many of them, it is like Minnesota is present, alive within my dreams, it’s the way it has always been. [#1311 4/11/06]

See Dennis’ web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com