My Mother's Lover

She arrived in the Spring, my mother's lover
arrived so softly: misting down into parched
dry earth, sweet glances and soft caresses
gently, as though concerned
to overwhelm her with too exuberant and joyous
a greeting.

She settled in slowly, my mother's lover
nourishing first the surface, so that a blush
of spring color spread fresh across her face
and small things
that had been withering
flourished again.

She penetrated deeply, my mother's lover
filled long-empty and aching acquifers
until they bubbled up in springs of joy
overflowing
and everyone came to these, to quench themselves
on love.

She departed in the Summer, my mother's lover
but she did not mourn the parting, for she was renewed
and blossoming in the heart of every flower now setting
green fruit
and she had been loved through the whole
of her being.

I missed her when she left, my mother's lover
and when I look back, I think so fondly of her
but I let no tears shadow these sunny days, for she
has promised
quite in sincerity to return to us--
come Spring.