Spring day in February
Hurt, ache, dispersed…and, now whisked away for just one day.
A particular release that no written word can negate.
The aroma of hope absorbed in cedar turns from scent to sound.
Magic in enjoying languid moments…
relishing in standing still with no chill, no longer a myth.
There is music in loving winter when it decides to go.
In the dark months, I attempt to realize not ‘everything is in my mind.’
In the light of now…when wind turns to breeze, my feet dare not touch the ground.
A fleeting thought as the sun goes down,
‘when the weather changes…never be the last to know.’