delicate petals unfold
and swallows swoop and glide
in a dance of new beginnings
as the earth breathes
a gasp of renewal
and green stretches
from beneath the cold grey

each bud
is a promise
each raindrop
a melody
and the sun
wraps its arms
around the world
lifting shadows
with gentle warmth

as hope blooms
in every corner
i grow with the flowers
learning to bloom
in the season of becoming
as spring whispers
softly through the trees

it was a wednesday.
i was driving to work and i thought
‘it is such a bright day today!’

no i didn’t.
i thought,
“it is such a bright day today.”

the sun's reflection off of other cars piercing my eyes,
something burning at the back of them as i try to look through the glare,
all dangerously obscuring my view.

(stop trying to sear my wounds shut when all i want to do is let them bleed)
(just let me bleed)

‘take me back to winter,’
i thought.

maybe then i can fall apart without also being burnt alive.

it’s summer here,
and my seasonal depression
slips away with the waves at the beach.
my eyes brighten with the sun,
and at last, i feel my heart warming,

the leaves are falling from the oak outside of my window.
autumn. lets old loves go with the seasons,
stripping itself of the sun damage from summer.
shaking itself clean of scars.
(i’m healing old wounds)

in winter, i slip.
fall along with the temperature.
stiffen along with almost everything
that meets the cold,
why am i so cold?

i sprout a little in spring.
defrost from the frozen winters.
wait for the new.
i see the oaks' new leaves.
i see the flowers in me bloom.

it’s summer here,
and i begin to feel like myself again.
letting my heart thaw
and my limbs stretch.
(the cold can’t bite me here).

Ploughed fields and tractor churning
yarrow, nettle, stubble burning
signs of a year at summers turning
blackberry, bracken, meadow sweet
showing the season is almost complete
chiff-chaff, pipit, pecking crows
bring high summer to an early close

july reaching's still to august,
whose days in general be more modest,
and september blowths the future cool,
june's present's past's hot-headed fool.

Jack
You have bested me again
Winter
With your cleaver endeavour
grasping on with your frost-bitten hands
Awaken sun and spite the cold
Warm the day and colourise the flowers
Make them beautiful bright and bold
Run through the trees
Awaken the flora
Ring spring throughout the land
Tell Winter their work is done
Now begone
The world is in my command
To those who seek me, I will come
Find me in the morning due
With blooming buds and vibrant hues, I'll paint the world anew

I see you there,
My sweet warm spring rain,
Coming 'round that worn & weathered bend again,
My sweetness,
My Queen.

Glimpses of you,
Carried upon warm gusts,
Through the torrent of winter sleet,
Tempered by grace and kindness,
Making me see that sweet morning dew once again.

Making my head swim,
Sweat breaking from my brow,
Rivulets caused by the intensity of your love,
Matching any summer haze.

You carry forth a great message,
Of coming life in blooms,
Rather then heralding Fall's doom and impending gloom.

So sing to me my May Queen,
With your soft words of gentle wood,
The sounds of supreme love and understanding,
Calling forth in me everything good.