There is a wait still in the woods
Bare of leaf, naked to the wind’s whistle
The carpet of white chill feeding slow the earth
In the melt for Springs release of green

It’s in this wind’s whistle that the smell rises
A damp release from last season’s leafy loam exposed
Given to the Sun in the long linger of winter ending
Heating up roots and wakening the slow flow of life inside

If you stand silent in the listen of life’s resurrection
There is a tremble to the earth to this awakening
As if the roots laid deep in the dark make a stretch, a push
A spasm in the warming earth’s call to return

There is a fever in every Spring coming
The end of winter’s quietude, a heating up, a call to life
That hunger for Sun light, the melt, and the blessing of rain.
The want to be reborn, in the excite of Springs call to Summer

I can smell the soon of it in these waiting woods for green
On this wet path of melting snow, with the wind in my ears
Calling me to my own greening and coming to life.
Releasing Winter’s hold.


Day 3.. NaPoWriMo.

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