shrouded in darkness,
sensing new warmth,
hearing the whispers.
Faintly at first
then beginning to call.
Needing to grow,
to cast off the clods,
not daring to breathe.
Follow the sounds,
words on the breeze
resounding within.
Slowly emerging
from winter repose,
the whispers of springtime
beckon the brave.
The first to appear.
in shy revelation.
And, confidence growing,
‘midst burgeoning green,
displaying their treasures,
each bud becomes bloom.
The whispering fades.
Spring’s song is beginning.
How lovely to be greeted by a poem on Monday morning. Especially one which fits so perfectly with the time of year.
ReplyDeleteThat just epitomises the little flowers slowly coming up and opening out, hopefully into some Spring sunshine. Thanks for this, Virginia. As Andrew says, nice way to start the day.
ReplyDeleteA lovely heartening verse as we struggle through to the end of winter. Thanks for this, Virginia!
ReplyDeleteThat’s an appropriate poem for this time of year great rhythm and feeling too
ReplyDelete