Spring To Come

The wintry frost melts slowly,
but a single bud bursts to bloom.
We stand and stare and wonder:
Why, oh why, has it come so soon?
The winter not gone,
the spring to come.
The clouds stand high
in place of sun.
The other buds stay shut up tight,
the other buds, forever young.
The spring-like warmth spreads slowly.
All the buds burst to bloom.
We stand and stare and wonder:
Will the summer heat consume?
The winter has gone,
the spring has come.
The sky is blue,
spring's song is sung.
And that flower,
that very first flower,
is beautiful.
The summer heat spreads quickly,
making flowers burn and die.
The first bloom waits and wonders:
Will the next one be I?

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by GL Reader | 2/1/2016