This is Not Death
This is not death, this brittle season.
Warmth waits rekindling
Beneath the snow;
Under rimed branches
Sleep green leaves
And each seed holds
A blossomglow.
We do not know our time or reason,
The promises
We are to keep;
This is not death,
This brittle season.
It is but rest
And pause for sleep.
©2007 Stormchild Blogs
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home