A steady snow fell on Saturday. Days later, inches of white blanket the ground and cling to rooftops, branches and fences. The wintry scene is quiet, cold and beautiful. Yesterday, as I gazed out the window, I appreciated the present beauty but found myself thinking about what was hidden underneath. All may seem to stand still in the quiet of winter, but time is ever marching on. Each season’s beauty is always right on time.
Dreams of Spring
The sky is gray,
The air is cold,
The garden is at rest.
In ten weeks-time it will awake,
Its dreams to manifest.
The snow will melt
And sink its call
To bulbs and silent seeds.
Their growth will spring at the right time
For tender stalks to breathe.
In my mind’s eye
I see a sea
Of pinks and purples and greens.
I feel the rush of springtime’s breeze,
The sun’s warmth on my feet.
For now, I wait
And dream the dreams
Of color, renewal and life.
I gaze upon the snowy ‘scape,
And winter’s dimming light.