Blossoms, beaten down and stems broken,
Signs of a colourful spring taken lightly, a token,
It is like winter got hands and feet, shredded,
the only symbol of its' leaving, the dreaded
first flowers of Spring.

Dark clouds on every horizon, selfish discoloured ground, that thirsts
for only water from snow and rain, all the water, even tears, that burst
from eyes won't be enough to quench or thaw the frozen earth,
which grapples with the promise of every year, each season will re-birth,
in its' place and Time.

This year or next year the weather may not be as we all expect,
frankly the weather outside, already has been wrecked,
life has internal storms too, that rip and pull, that demand more,
stand tall, face into the wind, brace yourself against the roar,
you are stronger Now.