Without warning culverts swell with hope,
Meltwaters surge where ice and snow once reigned absolute.
All vestiges of Winter succumb to its vortex;
What is annihilates what has been,
Washes every trace of despair downstream.
Creeks crucify the cold,
Flotsam crosses carried on rippled muscles
As they re-enact the Passion.
Breaking from its tomb once again.
So it does. Beautiful.
I love this time of year. Except for the puddles at recess. I could do without those entirely… 😉
I bet you could!
Multiple wardrobe changes may be fun on Broadway but they get pretty old with 6- year-olds… hehe Ah, well. My 17-year-old was dabbling in the puddles on our way home tonight. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em? 🙂
Did you join them? 😉
hee hee I’ll never tell!!
I’ll take it! 🙂
Pristinely done! Just great, love the way the words fused together!! 🙂
Thank you! Happy Easter to you!
I miss culverts and water flows from my childhood. Have a great Easter.
On our way to the house tonight my daughter (17) took a detour to crunch the ice on some puddles. Some things you just don’t grow out of. 🙂 Happy Easter to you too!
Melody, I love the analogy you’ve made–so full of hope.
Easter Blessings ~ Wendy ❀
Thank you, Wendy! Easter blessings back at ya! 🙂