on a cold and dreary day in February, I consider the days to come,
how I will revel in the whisper-light breath of cool air on my bare arms as I walk outside,
how I will marvel at the way the new greenery softens the world,
makes it somehow kinder.
gone will be the harsh reflection of slanting light on snow,
the dull greyish-browns of winter.
in their place I imagine
the twittering of newly-arrived birds gathering in the treetops,
the tightly furled fern fronds poking through the thawed ground,
the smells of the awakening world,
and small creatures of all kinds emerging from their underground burrows.
oh, how I will enjoy the sudden flood of light and color and sound,
bask in the sun
and dance in the rain.
but that day is not today,
and I know that sometime, not too long from now,
I will be longing for the days when the world becomes quiet
and still, resting after a season of growth.
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