The Spring Thaw

The morning sun reaches out with its warming rays,
caressing my face with the soft touch of a mother’s loving hand.
DRIP, DRIP, DRIP, DRIP.
Shimmering light dances in spectral rhythm before my eyes,
reflecting its radiance off of the silky smooth blanket of snow.
DRIP, DRIP, DRIP, DRIP.
I hear the chickadees chirping merrily in the hawthorns,
bouncing frivolously with ease from branch to branch.
DRIP, DRIP, DRIP, DRIP.
As chipmunks and bunnies prance about curiously,
leaving little labyrinths of footprints wherever they go.
DRIP, DRIP, DRIP, DRIP.
The brook babbles loudly as if conversing with the wind,
growing evermore audible with each passing hour.
DRIP, DRIP, DRIP, DRIP.
An embankment of snow stretches out over the water’s edge,
fruitlessly clinging to the hope that winter is not yet over.
DRIP, DRIP, DRIP, DRIP.
Crocus bulbs awaken from their frozen dormancy,
piercing the shroud of white to become a dazzling flower.
DRIP, DRIP, DRIP, DRIP.
The snow continues to silently recede into the vortex of spring,
while the green glory of nature reveals itself from under its melting cover.
DRIP, DRIP, DRIP, DRIP.
I sit on a boulder overlooking this grandeur,
and remember my loved one who died late last year.
DRIP, DRIP, DRIP, DRIP.
Her memory fills me with both joy and sadness,
while throughout my soul surge loneliness and fear.
DRIP, DRIP, DRIP, DRIP.
Yet try as I may to suppress those frigid thoughts,
my heart pines to imitate the cold, frozen scenery I just saw.
DRIP, DRIP, DRIP, DRIP.
But, alas, just as the winter must come to an end,
so too must I come to my own heart’s spring thaw.
DRIP, DRIP, DRIP, DRIP.