The Supplication of Spring by Diane Lewis Let the grass grow; the blades burst into kelly and emerald. Let the crocuses pop; while purple and white dart in all directions. Let the dogwood and the cherry blossoms erupt; behold their eternally flowered canopy. Let the maples cast off their buds. Let the thunderstorms rise out of nowhere; the rain pummeling the ground. Let tulips emerge resilient despite winter frost and foraging animals. See how quickly and efficiently the weeds rebel; the hostas spike up from the ground. Let the clematis sprawl upward in search of something to cling to. Let the wind begin after a good rain necessary to bring forth the season. Let the days be warm and the nights cool; while sparrows feverishly scramble to build. Without the cold, harsh clutches of an angry winter, these triumphs of spring would never be. From the poet: “My name is Diane L. Lewis and I am the Arts Council of Indianapolis’ 2010 Robert D. Beckmann Emerging Arti
Flying Island is the Online Literary Journal of the Indiana Writers Center, accepting submissions from Midwest residents and those with significant ties to the Midwest.