As the wind blows

An ancient breeze blows through the trees,

Shaking yellow dust off limbs that sway in motion.

The air is filled with tiny spores of Spring,

Journeys carried in gust beyond our horizons.

As Winters death releases her cold grip,

Life pulls itself out of a deep slumber.

We warm slowly under an April Sun,

Preparing for the ravages of a Summer heat.

Colors reappear to sway our hearts towards love,

Robins blue nestled against woven stems and twigs.

Purple blossoms rising in a feast of green,

Enticing Bees to carry heavy freights of gold.

Hues of red fill crevices abandon by the frost,

These cracks of life emerge indifferent to the day.

As the wind blows, birth reigns over death,

For another year, another time, in this place.

An original composition by the author of Ends and Beginnings