Sometimes in summer
when roots find no water
leaves wither, fade, and fall,
but with the rain
new buds, new leaves appear.
Sometimes after a forest fire
fresh green will push out of charred wood,
the ash of the old leaves
fertilising the new.
Sometimes in the thick of winter,
sudden mildness may stir the sap.
Precocious leaves may not resist frost's return,
but another spring will come.
Sometimes there is no hope
until spring comes.
Sometimes there is hope
despite everything.
Sometimes spring comes
more than once.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 10:46 AM UTC
Sometimes in summer
when roots find no water
leaves wither, fade, and fall,
but with the rain
new buds, new leaves appear.
Sometimes after a forest fire
fresh green will push out of charred wood,
the ash of the old leaves
fertilising the new.
Sometimes in the thick of winter,
sudden mildness may stir the sap.
Precocious leaves may not resist frost's return,
but another spring will come.
Sometimes there is no hope
until spring comes.
Sometimes there is hope
despite everything.
Sometimes spring comes
more than once.
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