Politics and the weather seem to be the topics of the year!  I am fatigued with politics, so here is my take on the weather.  The first was written last month just after our last big snow.  The second, I wrote this week with a new, and perhaps, more accurate perspective.

How Can We Predict?

I carry an image of winter

sewn into the tapestry

of my child experience:

 drifts too tall

 boots too short

 mittens too thin –

But, flakes too beautiful

 horizons too bright

 colors too stark.

What I love is hidden.

And I wonder

Will I see it all again?

Can I trust spring to return

 the red and yellow tulips?

 the noisy, flowing creek?

 the nests with little blue eggs?

Some years winter is

 too much

 too long

 too gray  . . .

And, I wonder

 can I trust spring?

 

 

I sat one wintry day

and wondered

if I could trust

that spring would come.

 

Would the robins

lay their little blue eggs – again?

Would the red tulips

emerge from their sleepy depths – again?

Would the sun and rain

green the grass – again?

 

Today I sit and wonder

if spring has fooled winter –

tricked it into hiding –

robbing it of its full icy life

out of greed for its own warmth.

 

Perhaps, all the seasons

are tricksters

defying us to control or predict

the surprises they delight

in creating.