The gentleness of Spring
is a beautiful thing,
something that I come to long for
day by day.
But my body and soul
stay stuck in the harshness
of my own never ending Winter.
The cold keeps me frozen in place,
and it saps the warmth that I have for myself.
My people suffer this cold as well,
even though they are well into Spring themselves.
Despite my frozen state,
I stare longingly into the Spring,
hoping that the snow will let up
and my bones are no longer frozen.
Time is running out,
and I will die if I stay here.
Jan 13
Jan 13, 2026 at 12:54 AM UTC
The gentleness of Spring
is a beautiful thing,
something that I come to long for
day by day.
But my body and soul
stay stuck in the harshness
of my own never ending Winter.
The cold keeps me frozen in place,
and it saps the warmth that I have for myself.
My people suffer this cold as well,
even though they are well into Spring themselves.
Despite my frozen state,
I stare longingly into the Spring,
hoping that the snow will let up
and my bones are no longer frozen.
Time is running out,
and I will die if I stay here.
Request permission to use this poem