Remnants of autumn lay around my trunk Their martyr deaths feeding the forest earth I will not fear the fall No inevitable night can stop this dawn The stirring is too able. The cold dirt has begun to loosen its grip on my roots Sap once again moves through my stem. Soon delicate blossoms and eager leaves Will make their dramatic approach. The elegant splendor of rebirth.
I could live through a thousand springs. A beginning that never grows dull or daunting. Each with its elegant splendor Feeling as extraordinary as the first. The sun sits longer in the day’s sky If only I could reach so high as to touch it Its magnetic power would pull me from my slumber But there is no rush Patience is my rule to follow. No season can be forced. I trust no spring will fail to come.