Spring
Spring
And in the crevice that came
From the split in the broken heart
A green shoot
It sprang forth with a cry
And bloomed with every inch
Of brightness the sun showered down
The darkness had descended
The last of the growth had died
Hope had kept strong until finally lost
But in the flap of a wren’s wing, the frost receded
Spring fought its silent battle
And conquered the season of night
3 thoughts on "Spring"
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Beautiful use of green shoot as metaphor.
That last stanza is fantastic! Great poem!
A reminder of how nature operates. She can be big and dynamic, but look closely and it’s the small things that make the big difference. Love this description.