A warm wind is brewing.
The traveling force
of green pastures, flowers,
and the sweet, over-powering
smell of honeysuckle is rushing
to meet us. A brighter sun
travels faster than a mother
to greet her wandering child.
A cooler, refreshing rain
will cover us, blanket the ground,
drowning us in the bloom,
the rebirth. Windows will open,
and we will all expose ourselves
to the tantalizing danger of the sun.
The Earth will start to heal,
to repair the anguish of a raging Winter,
inspiring us all
to see each other plainly.
And, in turn, our hearts will heal.
Our souls will start an eruption
the type of thinking and loving only done
when Spring comes. It will sweep us away,
It will clean us. We will learn living
through it. Glimpses of hummingbirds,
will teach us the meaning of a companion.
The resurgence of a lost vibrant color
will teach us restoration.
Spring will give us no option.