Storm in April

[summer_jackel]

The rains came cold and hard today.
I moved through forest as the sky grew late
as stream-waters rushed whitely down the canyon
as the air breathed little gusts of rain.
Light went rare; the trail was treacherous and slippery
what had been that slender path, I followed up a waterfall
and into spring.

Spring's dark glory
A mad rushing, wild waters foamed with joy
new things coming out of black old soil
half hoped-for in the darkness.