Spring hope

The weight of the cloudless night
Is as harsh as mountain stones
As cold as hatred,
With axe-strong winds
Forcing women to walk
With crossed arms pressed close
To their bosoms

I long for spring’s return
When the trees will be writers
With newly published leaves
A time when blankets of soft breezes
Advertise morning’s glory
And birds will sing new songs
To the cricket’s chorus

A time when warmth
Screams of promise
And the earth is pregnant
With buds and blossoms
But winter comes with a funeral touch
Death beneath a cloudless night
Awaiting tomorrow’s weakened sun

Reviews

[SyberRose]

The earth is pregnant with buds ...I like that line...SyberRose

[Writer #00]

Fantastic, the analogy of trees to writers in their spring is wonderful...the only sadness of extending that metaphor is that the leaves eventually reach their peak and fall off to be trampled on....

The ending was expertly written, great job comparing death to winter and acknowledging even the loss of energy the sun may have after harsh colds.

[J. J. Nightingale]

I loved the springtime of my life ..

But winter isn't bad .. just a lighter shade of grey

I am happy you are home .. and reminding us of life ...

Jasmine xo

[David Scott]

DrD you skill with the pen is beyond reproach. I do question where your mind is going from time to time.
I did not expect the ending here... Hmmm.
Maybe when we open our hearts and minds to ponder we cannot help but see the full realities that come with the observations. Spring does bring the contrast of winter to mind. I wonder why we cannot simply enjoy the flowers? It is a conundrum.
It was a pleasure to read David!

[DrD]

I think dementia might have something to do with it, David. I don't know where my mind is going, either. It's homeless.

[David Scott]

Ha! I highly doubt it David...
You made me stop and think.