“The days are long, but the years are short.” That feels especially true in parenthood — and perhaps in winter, too. As I turned the page on the calendar, I was reminded that the dark, wintry days are nearing an end. My hope for all of us is that we look toward the light, toward spring.
My worry grows fierce,
And yet spring will come.
The birds sing,
Reminding me,
Spring will come.
The world feels heavy,
But spring will come.
My tears fall, my dreams are disrupted.
But my pansies will bloom.
I believe spring will come.
I walk early in the morning.
The light on the horizon blossoms.
A reminder,
Still, spring will come.
The world turns.
Society tumbles.
And rebuilds.
Time and time again.
Listening to the chilly comforts of this morning…
steaming cup of coffee in hand…
the cacophony of the sounds of nature around me,
I know,
Even so, spring will come.
Let us breathe, and hope and sing.
As spring reminds us of this day’s beauty.
Picture: Daffodil Hill, Lake View Cemetary (Jeannie Fleming-Gifford)
