Spring arrives in silence, soft and slow,
Greens unfurl where the cold used to grow.
Skies stretch wide in endless blue,
And the ocean hums in a gentler hue.
Mountains breathe beneath morning dew.
Yellow and purple bloom, a hush of pink,
Whispers of time on the season’s brink.
The air is rain-sweet, cool and light,
Birdsong drifting from dawn to night.
I walk through this world gently reborn,
Each breeze is a memory not yet worn.
How I wish to hold this golden hour,
To root myself like a tree or flower.
And though I know it will soon be gone,
It lingers in me, like an unfinished song.
Greens unfurl where the cold used to grow.
Skies stretch wide in endless blue,
And the ocean hums in a gentler hue.
Mountains breathe beneath morning dew.
Yellow and purple bloom, a hush of pink,
Whispers of time on the season’s brink.
The air is rain-sweet, cool and light,
Birdsong drifting from dawn to night.
I walk through this world gently reborn,
Each breeze is a memory not yet worn.
How I wish to hold this golden hour,
To root myself like a tree or flower.
And though I know it will soon be gone,
It lingers in me, like an unfinished song.