Daily Walk; looking around

Blooming now in an untended weedy patch by the street. 

Because of all the rain, there are all sorts of surprises on the daily walk.

Today's apricot iris is just one of them.

Trilliums 

Every spring 

   among 

      the ambiguities 

         of childhood 

the hillsides grew white 

   with the wild trilliums. 

      I believed in the world. 

         Oh, I wanted 

to be easy 

   in the peopled kingdoms, 

      to take my place there, 

         but there was none 

that I could find 

   shaped like me. 

      So I entered 

         through the tender buds, 

I crossed the cold creek, 

   my backbone 

      and my thin white shoulders 

         unfolding and stretching. 

From the time of snow-melt, 

   when the creek roared 

      and the mud slid 

         and the seeds cracked, 

I listened to the earth-talk, 

   the root-wrangle, 

      the arguments of energy, 

         the dreams lying 

just under the surface, 

   then rising, 

      becoming 

         at the last moment 

flaring and luminous-- 

   the patient parable 

      of every spring and hillside 

         year after difficult year. 

Mary Oliver 

Dream Work, Atlantic Monthly Press, 2014, p.10.

This is quite a simple poem, arranged in indented four-line stanzas,

nine of them. Your task: look about and write your own springtime poem of about this length, using this form. Or invent a spring form of your own!