A Poem By

Marian Buck-Murray

 

 

 

This is the winter I melt into spring.

The small green sprout of a girl lingers

still,

inside my frozen expanse.

She’s wrapped tightly,

hardly breathing,

and somewhere,

in the quiet of her silent watch,

she hears the sound,

and sees the signs.

Her skin awakens to the soft sure breath

of something that reminds her

of Love.

And she knows.

It’s time to breathe again.

Her  break has come,

and the hardened shards

of blackened snow and ice

begin to fall around her.

Soon she will be here,

alive and green

and as brave as the violet crocus

emerging to play in the warming light of day.