Blazen Rites

It was a hard winter
 though it rarely froze
In a pleasant, desperate search
 I walk the entire park
 for respite

A tuft of purple crocuses
 The sniff of a dog
  Little waterfalls
 The bend of the river
Will it be enough?

Intuition indicates the right path
I hesitate, but take it
Such a long walk — for what?
and to go the whole way —
 it's getting late

I reach the horses’ ring
The naked woods are on fire
The bold sun hovers atop the hill yonder,
its rays a kaleidoscopic crown,
as if waiting for me the whole time