A February Spring

The sun said it was spring

so it opened its creamy white peddles

putting all its faith in the moment the sun so boldly proclaimed.

The sun then hid away

clouds filled with cold and snow

falling on the open faced bloom.

It committed itself to its moment and stayed through the cold.

The white became transparent

and dropped to the ground.

​

Perspective

The rain from the hurricane

arrived in Kentucky

gentle and steady; unrecognizable

from her portrait on television.

I heard a few acorns fall as she fell,

the oak seeds finding the moist soil

she so softly caressed. The spring will crack

open their dormant sanctuary

with the storm finding her redemption

As for those who think this hurricane’s

destruction as God’s wraith for sins—maybe instead

you can think of God as going

about her business of making oak trees.  

  

by M. Susan Deaton