In a spring pool surrounded by the blushing blossoms of Japanese Magnolias
I feel the depths of sorrow pull me
my fingers brushing mud and sludge
scraping bottom stones
my tears add to rising waters
and I spin in the circling emotions of fighting moments
Winter doth not surrender easily
why have blossoms appeared so rapidly
in air remaining much too chill
the signs of growth sprout undeniable
upon a world yet frustratingly still
Spring comes
where is her promised respite?
Perhaps if she hadn’t come so early Winter wouldn’t have been so hostile