A Nature Poem for Your Soul, “Spring’s Winter”

Most said winter was a brittle beast,
a lonely soul in deep freeze.
She lived alone on a mountaintop,
Coldness covering every rock.

So few noticed her or stopped to care;
For who wants to know despair?
Indeed, only one made that frosty trek,
A want to greet her, to connect.

It was Spring who climbed that weathered peak,
Dressed bright in fresh greenery.
She brought seeds as her fine offerings,
Left by the door for company.

Winter so longed to bring Spring inside,
and unveil her heart fireside.
You see, Winter knew her end was near;
Sounds of birds chirping rang clear.

Nature’s seasons are a strange wild thing
Tied together—a soulful ring.
So, Spring soon sensed Winter’s aching need;
Her solemn message she did heed.  

Spring ventured bravely from her terrain,
Scaling a blizzard, in pain.
With her budding soul she still trudged,
Reaching Winter’s door, a tiny nudge.

Winter sat hunched over hardened snow,
Bones crooked and tears aglow.
Finally, the first time they did meet;
Spring bowing at her iced feet.

She stared deep in Winter’s wise old land,
holding tight her wrinkled hand;
Listening to all her stories told
Of a life long-lived in the cold.

Each day Spring did as the one before
To be with her a little more.
As she drew close to Winter’s hearth,
Peace she brought—a kind rebirth.

Tucked beneath the warmest shades of Spring,
Winter smiled, her lines sparkling.
Even as her cool breath grew weary;
Her spirit roused, almost cheery.

Most said Winter was a brittle beast,
a lonely soul in deep freeze.
But Spring did learn that beneath the chill,
Winter snows her magic will.

And so, when the end finally came,
Spring stayed with her all the same.
Sunlit snowflakes laced her bluish cheeks,
As Winter soon fell asleep.

Spring kissed her head, and leaned to her ear,
So her dearest Winter could hear.
Singing softly as her grandmother died,
“I’ll bloom for you, while my heart still cries.”

Angie Weiland-Crosby