Hidden Hope

Cement gray and cold like a cellar.
Drops driven to the ground by an unrelenting wind.
Streams teaming with melt and foam.
Mustard yellow grass and charcoal tinted piles of snow linger.
Naked trees shutter in the absence of the sun.
Spirits yearning for renewal and hope.


Honkers chattering above raise one's eyes upward.
The orchestra of the wild filling the air.
Buds developing beyond our vision.
Turf thawing, yet hidden from our gaze.
Day light lingering more each day.
Tulip buds awaiting their turn.


Death has held it's grip long enough.
Life and new birth are preparing to reign.
Postures will straighten and coats will be shed.
The trees will be clothed in their spring time splendor.
Spring is the best time of the year.
Have hope, don't fret, it will be here before you know it, I bet!