The buds anxiously wait to burst through
warmer, softer ground.
They sprout like a secret lacking sound.
First signs of spring and the excited joy they bring.
Accompanied by joyous melodies the birds do sing.
Robin's, dressed in their red breast, hop everywhere.
A sky saturated blue, provokes a happy hypnotic stare.
The sun's soft spring heat shines on the thick, smooth buds.
Sometimes what is fragile is at the same time tough.
And renewal of earth and heart is abundantly enough.
So many great poets on here, I'm glad I joined.
