within the grit of the gentle white
buried within the ***** of the roots
lay life between its silent slumber
while the outward burns to frost-ly breath
all the buds lay in cozy sleep
some think that Tis time to outshine
while the rabbits lay burdened to sleep
and bud and bloom midwinter too soon
their jealousy their end their doom.
as time makes brittle corpses of the children of sin
when the sun melts through the dense white reality
The well-rested princes and princess do rise