The rain the sun
The bud the pollen
The flower the leaf
The fruit the seed
Spring undeniable
Again in its glory
Winter’s toll taken
The fallen both recalled
And unremembered
Now is the time of
The unencumbered
And new responsibility
Awakening comes slow
Then sudden
Like the flood of the
Mountain stream
White and cold with
Anger and breakneck
Speed, ice no longer
Controlling and slowing
Its pace, What did I
Believe yesterday?
It seems so distant
I am who I was, but
There is the reckoning
That maybe I was wrong
Believing the cycle broken
And the world to be colder
Than it once was
Winter is nothing if not
A capable illusionist
Claiming things broken and
The cycle ceased
Yet it comes again
The rain
The sun
The bud
The pollen
The flower
The leaf
The fruit
The seed
Unbroken
Just in time
Overwhelming me
Gene G. McLaughlin 2014
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