P a t i e n c e
And not in a sudden rush.
The days must warm intentionally,
The winds must die to a hush.
Not overnight, or at our whim,
But purposefully and s l o w,
Days of longer light begin
As goes the ice and snow.
Sooner or later, the swollen bud
Will burst, and bloom emerge,
Quietly, gently, w i l l f u l l y
In a scheduled, easy surge.
It’s a d e l i b e r a t e plan on Nature’s part,
Just assume that she knows best
And embrace each colorless day that’s left,
And patiently wait for the rest.
text © Nancy Bond