Sunday, 14 June 2015

Becoming Spring

A ghostly breeze, bone-chilled from Winter’s shadow,
crawled past as I exhaled, and stole some warmth
from human breath, which gave it thoughts of Spring.
‘Ha! Spring does not exist for Winter’s friendless
breezes,’ the lifeless landscape sneered; but as
it spoke, that Winter’s shadow grew quite faint
and disappeared to nothing, while the Sun,
obscured behind a shapeless cloud for such
a time that I had quite forgotten her
existence, showed her face and blew a kiss
of heat towards that breeze which once was ghostly.
‘Remember this,’ she said, ‘in every breath
of human life, there lives a thing called Hope.’
The warm and friendly breeze was charged with joy,
and flew across the land, becoming Spring.

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