Winter's Flowers

Winter’s flowers, I like to call them,

Pretty petals bursting from the earth.

Yet the air is freezing,

It tastes of ice and snow.

The sky is warming,

The sun is stretching,

And the grass is dancing,

But still the cold does not go.

Winter’s flowers are small and meek.

A passerby might call them weak.

Yet it is these petals which bloom and flourish,

When the world is still dark, and the ground unnourished.

They stand,

They blossom,

They grow,

And yet the air is of ice and snow.

Winter’s flowers are Winter’s gifts.

“Hello, Spring,” they say, a timeless friend.

“It is good to see you again.

“Twelve months since we have spoke,

“Each month felt like a promise broke.

“I have battled wind, and sleet, and snow,

“And yet, I still did not go.

“For you being here again, this I did know.”

Spring laughs and flutters, life abound.

“Winter, Winter,” it tsks and huffs.

“Your dramatics are far too much.

“I still live and I still flourish.

“This ground we live upon I still nourish.

“Twelve months are long and hard,

“But they have passed,

“And I hope our friendship has still last.”

The two talk and they bicker,

They fight and they titter.

Winter gives them tiny, hardy flowers,

Spring preserves the last of the icy cover.

And while all of humanity is bitter,

Wishing for the cold to pass,

The ageless friends need just a few weeks,

For their love to be renewed at last.

Winter’s flowers, small and soft,

A fragrance a life, of color, they loft.

They must know their dance so sought out,

Gifts of colors and scents are for naught,

As their dance remains forgotten,

As the friends play-battle and dance.

Shamelessly, the ageless joke and prance

Such is the joy between old friends.

Because, as it stands,

Spring and Winter do not fight.

They are not foes of dark and light.

Spring is waking as Winter yawns,

One stands up, the other falls.

Spring will fold,

Winter will stand,

And its icy handwriting will tell tales of the land.

Tales of creatures long ago alive,

Creatures of now, we have no idea thrive.

Disasters and extinctions which define our earth,

Traumas and shocks which give us worth.

And when all is said and done,

And Winter has raced its run,

Spring will be awake,

And for a short time, those timeless friends will have fun.