Through the cold Winter,
Dark and wet and too terribly long,
We have waited.
Furrows of white
Snow sown on the ground.
Bare branches of trees,
Stark against the azure sky.
We lived our lives in the cold.
Hands drawn close,
Protecting ourselves against the wind.
The trees were just as impatient as we.
As the world grew warmer,
The days creeping longer,
They hid what they had prepared.
Captured in anticipation.
There were hints of what was to come.
The furrows of snow were
Replaced with furrows of green.
Pink buds began to appear at the tips of the trees.
Purple flowers dotted themselves among the new grass.
Daffodils sprung out in green stalks and yellow blossoms.
But the bare brown branches remained.
The trees erupted in green.
Pouring forth the pollen that multiplies.
The hints of green of the early season are now
Now the world is green.
Grass, trees, cars, pavements, bushes.
The canopy has returned.
Fields stretch away, covered in healthy greens,
Where once only dirt soiled the view.
Now the world is no longer caught in hesitancy.
Now Spring has made itself known.
Pleasured in release.
Now we can see that the waiting was worth it.
Spring can come again.
It takes the remembering Spring
To be able to survive Winter;
To know that Spring Will