Weeks of preparation have led to this day

Shivering nervously on the ends of branches

Divinely designed green skirts flutter in

The warmly growing breeze.

Each seed wakened recently

Out of a winter’s slumber.

Birdsong like the warming

Of an orchestra

Signals that it is time.

They let go.

Spiraling to the ground

In the hundreds.

Raining down in sheets of green.

Another reminder that nature

Is, at its root, pure magic.