Seasons are but chapters, some penned wistfully,
others vibrantly alive with desire.
Today I marvel at the lifting fog
slowly illuminating earnest stemmed crocus
and snowdrops sprouting fragile yet resilient
from frost-kissed earth;
an omen to gather strength for the future,
leave harsh edge of my tongue
behind, allow my script to be scrolled
with a gentle slant, willing to bend but not break.
by Margaret Bednar, April 19, 2018
This is linked with "The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Get Listed with Sanaa Rizvi" - I used the words omen, wistful, crocus, edge.
Also linked with NaPoWriMo 2018 (30 poems in 30 days)