Spring, always in the making, works.
You put on a good spring, well-staged,
andÂ youâ€™ve got the makings of a universe.
This means everythingâ€™s spinningÂ and
gearing up at just the right time.Â Newtonian.
Clockwork. Or letâ€™s try Einsteinian,Â where
everythingâ€™s relative. Cousinly,Â family,Â curved.
— Al Young
(Composer: Freddie Hubbard)
Photo: Al Young
UP JUMPED SPRING
Whatâ€™s most fantastical almost always goes
unrecorded and unsorted. Take spring.
Take today. Take dancing dreamlike; coffee
your night, creameries your dream factories.
Take walking as a dream, the dearest, sincerest
means of conveyance: a dance. Take leave
of the notion that this nationâ€™s or any otherâ€™s earth
can still be the same earth our ancestors walked.
Chemistry strains to connect our hemispheres.
The right and left sidelines our brain forms
in the rain this new world bravesâ€”acid jazz.
The timeless taste her tongue leaves in your mouth,
stirred with unmeasured sugars, greens the day
the way sweet sunlight oxygenates, ignites
all nights, all daytimes, and youâ€”this jumps.
Sheer voltage leaps, but nothing keeps or stays.
Sequence your afternoon as dance. Drink spring.
Holding her hard against you, picture the screenplay.
Take time to remember to get her spells together.
Up jumps the goddess gratified, and up jumped spring.
Â© 2006, 2007 and 2015 by Al Young