i wish you could show me the spring

i wish you could show me the spring —
wildflowers waking up on the creek bank,
catkins greening at the slender ends of oak branches,
speckled bird eggs kept carefully in fragile nests,
and the whole kaleidoscope of universe contained
in your particular place on earth.
yet i’m not there to see …
still, i suppose there will always
be other springs,
somewhere.
won’t there?