Sunday Morning in Spring
When there is a moment
Such as this
When I feel
And see
Gratitude in every movement
Every moment
I know
It’s up to me
To pay if forward
For long
Were the days
Of damp, dark depression
Of suffocating sadness
And debilitating fear
So whisper to me
Your wishes
And I will hear them
And know
If I can bring
Their fruition near
9
3
13