Spring Will Come

The snow will finally melt.

The clouds of darkness will evaporate.

The sun will shine.

Birds will sing a tuneful song as the river’s water trickles  

The grass like razor blades of emeralds, spiking towards the sun. 

Butterflies play a game of tag and it will seem as if their wings flutter faster than light.

Fields of flowers, will swarm with bees

They shall busily collect pollen, making sweet golden bliss.

I’ll gaze at the white cotton in a sea of blue ribbon.

I will breath in swirls of flowers and damp emeralds. 

The sun will radiate onto me, showering me with rosy cheeks and golden pores.