Quietly, without flourish or fanfare they
appear. They don't seem to be
as tough as the bark they
break through, as rugged as the
dirt they push aside or as
bold as the promise they hold.
But perhaps they are all that....
and much more. The subtle strength
of the spring bud never fails
to challenge my spirit. Against all
odds they appear. They push through.
The dry, rough, weathered tree bark
is no match for their grit.
The cold, hard and unyielding ground
is no match for their power.
Against all odds they quietly arrive,
bringing with them the promise of
growth. Of warmth and of change.
The promise of a sumptuous spring.
Please join in the Friday fun!
Caption a photo, share a poem
or tell a story. Just remember,
only six words in each line!