For a moment, I thought it was snowing,
but realized quickly, it was only
white petals dancing in the fields.

This season of awakenings,
fills every breath with hope.

Here you are, tiny and delicate
waiting for the world to pick you.
Sweet little bud, open your heart
to the soft, bright sunshine
and soak up the raining morning light.

Your black eyes are black holes of maligned intentions.
While seemingly benign, poison reaches out towards the
innocently unsuspecting and renders them speechless.
I see you for who you are.

Walking along frozen fields of white
crystals cracking in the cold morning wind,
I dream of a warm sun and red tulips.

A tropical plant living lushly with care and
attention, gravitates toward the light of the
window and is contained by a cold, hard pane
of cloudy, obscure glass.