￼ Waking to hushed breaths Like the mists of the morning Waiting for the warmth
Angel feathers fall An incessant blanketing Like beneath white sheets Holding each other so close Melting together in love
There are nights Those warm summer nights Sunset’s slipped Moon’s waking Cicadas serenading When we know, just know
Soothing strokes of promised spring, They trace the wrinkles of my soul. There is an awakening within / without- And I sense something amazing to happen- Something unfurling as an opening bud. ‘Is this Spring,’ I ask the warming sun. My smiling shadow nods yes.