Where I Find Spring

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Tiny fists, so green and small,

Held so tight against the wall

Of winter's chill, a sleeping hold,

Now slowly open, brave and bold.


I watch them wake into the light,

A welcome, gentle, hopeful sight.

Little buds on branches thin,

Whispering where spring can begin.


A promise soft, a feeling deep,

While winter dreams its frosty sleep.

A sign of hope before my gaze,

As springtime dawns in golden haze.


Sunbeams dance, a happy grace,

Washing the world, and my own face,

With morning dew, so fresh and bright,

Awakening colors into light.


Each tiny leaf, a vibrant gleam,

A little star, a waking dream.

It blooms against the fading gray,

Chasing winter far away.


A melody I almost hear,

Life coming back, banishing fear.

The budding trees, a joyful sound,

As hope is scattered all around.


I breathe it in, this fragrant air,

Of spring's return, beyond compare.

Winter moves, its reign is done,

And life awakens with the sun.

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