Away from Spring

Bleak and chill the drops of ice sway, bending black branches below the falling sun and firey cold. The winter wind loses grip on unleashed fury and the ever-changing sun sets. Transformation begins, violent, encompassing flames of days rebirth, the loving sounds of glistening flora and open, breathing buds. Life returns, lashing fields of ochre with celadon sprays, graceful trees, shivering beneath blossoms heavy-laden. A truth renewed, reborn with Natures wooly cap shorn anew. Glistening strands and silken streams rejoice. The laughter rings across a meadow, at once melancholy, dark and chivalrous, Cold bows. Trailing dewy webs and sweetened, heady blooms, a Season reclaims her throne.