Our oaks and maples are still bare

Winter’s day is not done today,

Yet there are signs of spring approaching.

Forsythias’ yellow, glows in our sunrise,

Cherry Blossoms’, waken us this morn,

It is only a passing season, and we are so alive.

Magnolias am I, and date ninety five million,

Am prehistoric, with tepals, I predate even bees!

Witness I stood through ice ages, and mountain formation,

My glory rises in many continents, riding this continental drift.

When spring comes, I awake from dawn prehistoric,

In a profundity of spring, rejoicing all of Earth’s seasons.

Magnolia I am, living in this millennium.

Young is this Earth, and younger yet is this season.

The lovers come and stare, at me and my blooms.

Captivated by my outpouring of love, for our mother.

They gaze at me in wonder, admiring Spring’s profundity.

Of nature’s shameless, as I bloom wantonly, full of color.

Our grass will turn green, along with our trees

Our time of love and newness, will open its buds.

We will walk in the woods and smell their sweet air

Drawn to this clearing, we will have our first visitation.

Of the profundity of spring, and Earth’s many manifestations.

Remember the Magnolia and sing in our glorious spring!

(Hope Lives! April 27, 1953).