Spring

- The Seasons Of Grief: Chapter I - Poem I -

The cradle of spring, where blooms unfurl,

I bartered with the dawn, each promise a youthful pearl

The air was laden with May opportunity made anew,

Yet, I clutched yesterday, unaware of what was true

Dew beads clung like questions on inquisitive lips of verdant green,

They overwhelmed me, their real meaning lay unseen

The violets in the garden sighed beneath my tread,

I gained a hymn to life reborn, though loss still bred

I knelt among the crocus, their petals tipped in gold,

Offering prayers that the prophecy was not foretold

The wind, a courier of change, toyed with my uncertainty,

Its murmurs spoke of dark truths I would soon come to see

Cherry blossoms pirouetted in March, how they were so tender,

Promising beginnings, yet I long to remember

I reached for the lilacs, their perfume bittersweet,

In April, I ceased to exist, like the scent of death that I seek

The rivers brimmed with a melody unnamed,

Flooding my banks with tears, and a promise I could not gain

I trace the shoreline of summer, weaving the wishes into my wake,

A dance of longing, that all this risk won’t be a mistake

Each leaf unfurled on the evergreen tree that bored the weight of surrender,

The sprouts, a bargain for a future dream-lender

Beneath the robin’s trill and wisteria’s embrace,

I became a fractured form atop the mountains of grace

I knew what I was getting into; the thicket’s cruel walk begins,

I had to trade what I loved to see what I could love within

I lingered in the doorway, one hand in the past,

And I hoped to God my bloom would hold, but I know it couldn’t last

The depths of greenery that weave within my mind, call out to spring,

They weep, for they know what is coming, and all they can do now is watch me sit in denial