Indeed, it is the first of June 
an almanac within assures. 
It tells me when the season’s right 
and what’s worth bearing until I die.  

That almanac within me now 
nudges: avoid what gives no joy 
or isn’t worth bearing until you die 
just plant impatiens while your lilies stand by. 

Nudged to avoid what gives no joy
I’m off to watch my clematis bloom,
plant impatiens while my lilies sway
and do what needs tending to finish my day.  

Yes, I’ll sit and watch my clematis bloom
taking time to tend to the first of June
and the needs of my day while answering pleas
with: not till the season’s right for me.