Is there strength in all these words

That we pour upon the page

Can they open up the gates

Can they set free from the cage?

Is there power in the pen

Two-edged sword within the hand

To tend the wounded heart

And heal the broken man?

Can we offer a transfusion

To those on life support

Matching with our blood types

Or inclusive donor "O"?

Is there such resuscitation

To the heart, asystole

When the blood ceases to flow

What is the remedy?

She strips away the winter wear

But leaves it out to dry

She warms herself in Sun’s bright light

Taking her sweet time

She slowly starts to gathering

All her friends and more

And puts to task just one of them

To sweep up off the floor

All that lingers from the season

Holidays; great cheer

Festive parties; gatherings

And ringing in ’new year

She’s diligent behind the scenes

Even in a frost

Preparing for her premier

When snow, for now, is lost

Spring has been quite busy

Sowing her new dress

She’s had the help of faithful friends

Many hands make burdens less

Flocking, they will travel far

From the south to see

The matinee she’s working on

Her annual destiny

Even should a sudden snowfall

Take her by surprise

She won’t be late, she has a date

Her show, in days, arrives

It’s time; the moment waited for

Her production in grand scale

March 20th, the day is here

Spring’s finally unveiled!

Que the chorus; sounds of music

Birds of every kind

Fill the morning with great cheer

And this heart of mine

First on stage the almond tree

Budding with white brilliance

And then the cherry, making happy

Pink hued luminescence

My favorite guest, I’d have to say

The Sun whose been away

Not really, but it sure seems so

With Winter’s shortened days

The peach tree, soon; will don her jewels

And draw the bees to gather

From her blossoms, small and fragile,

Life, of golden nectar

On goes the song; a live performance

Though, waiting in the eaves

Is Summer; Sun’s bright star presents

When Spring, the stage, she leaves

Where’s the secret hidden;

Who holds the lock and key;

The purpose of our life

Our fate and destiny?

Who has seen the end

From the beginning of our tale?

Who has writ each story

And pulls back the opaque veil?

Who has authored journeys

And draws the map and clues?

Who can whisper to our hearts

Thy why of me and you?

Who designed our beings;

Body, soul and spiritual

Pouring love in fragile vessels;

Life, a miracle?