As Spring Survived
When winter’s grip begins to fade,
Will death and grief release their hold?
Snowdrops stir beneath the frost—
A whisper soft, as spring unfolds.

The sun returns with golden breath,
Rebirth begins, and life rewakes.
Yet I am heavy in my grief—
A robin still with broken wings.

If time allows, I’ll find my feet,
And rise once more into the wind.
For even sorrow casts a shape
That lets the light slip softly in.

And though the path is slow and bare,
Each brave step carves a space for air.
I’ll breathe again the world I miss—
The tender ache, the warming kiss.

In March, beneath a gentler sky,
Spring will begin — and so shall I.
Sadness shrinking, fear grown still,
Scars softening beneath the hill.

And summer...
I cannot yet name it.
But I feel it —
Almost.


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This version builds toward hope while pausing at the edge of it, leaving the reader suspended