SPRINGS by Charlotte Fiske Bates
With unaccustomed tenderness,
The wayward son enfolds his mother;
With strange and sudden gentleness
The sister looks upon her brother.
The babe is tightened in the hold,
With gushes of maternal passion;
The wife and husband show their love
After the maids’ and lovers’ fashion.
And some white face with moveless lids
That can be wet with tears no longer,
Staying perchance life’s wanted way
Has made love’s currant flow the stronger.
Or, it may be, in last night’s dream,
Each felt what might be death’s aggression,
And waking, tearful Love ran forth,
To prove still safe his own possession.
Does Springtime have this affect on you? I wonder… It seems Bates is describing a feeling of new life after the winter- this feeling of all the constraint and fears of death developing into a new love for life! Fear can cause us to hold on tighter to what we’ve got. hmmm. Food for thought.