''For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. . . .''m Song of Solomon 2: 11, 12 All this waving blowing green; The very air leaves A green taste on your lips, and The sky, if blue, has Caught the glow. Above us Sun comes raging through the Cottonwoods, suffusing our skin. Your face is golden-green. The cherry orchard wears its New growth like awkward arms and legs. They dangle in glittering pools of light. Branches toss and toss; skyfuls Of salad, green banners, triumph. As always, the turtle's statement Is profound: culled from ancient wisdom, Portents which lie shadowing the land. Yet no ear listens; Earth is celebrating green.