I sang songs to spring yesterday morning.
In hopes that she would wake.
That this cold wind against hard winter worked bones would ease its chill.
And maybe, just maybe, Daffodils would embrace cheekbones like wet soil.



She never came.
And I sat there under the big dipper wondering if the North Star really was the brightest.
Or another hoax the world tells us.
Just so we think we know how to get back home.



I watched budding trees wishing the branches didn’t look so empty.
They creaked with distaste of how they looked.
And I stared at them like strangers.
Walking away sighing, maybe she’ll never come.




And I saw him wish on cluttered clouds and pending raindrops.
While trying to build a skyscraper out of sand.
And all I wanted at that moment besides sun was to touch him.
Because the sadness in his eyes was far worse then the felt sadness in my heart.




And as he glanced, I turned away.
Cold as winter I was, I walked on by.
His mouth eager to say something, ears not ready to listen.
And I swore he whispered, “ I need you.”




But all I could mouth was not today.




He sat on his porch that morning.
And as I fiddled with flower seeds and loose buttons on my coat.
I saw his distant shadow, turning to run away he grasped my hand.
And I swore I never saw anything blossom more.




Than the warmth in my heart.




& I looked down as he talked about spring.
Slowly my head lifted to see beautiful brown eyes.
As he whispered, “ I need you.”
As I replied, “ How long?”


Forever.




And that night the wind calmed and the branches bloomed.
There were roses on my lips, and daisies blooming in my heart.
And as you clasped your hand in mine, I felt nothing but warmth.
Nothing but spring, blooming from pure love.





Love.

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