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.
Earth awakes,
Breaking from its tomb once again.
Caught in the midst of an endless cycle,
she alternates between
numb and inflamed, cool and intense.
The roller coaster between
Passion and Apathy makes for a very bumpy ride.
Feeling stirs fear
that she will lose control, drip into oblivion,
find herself
a puddle to be trifled with under hob-nailed boots.
But turning a cold shoulder,
selling herself to indifference only leaves her stiff at the sidelines,
forgetting to inhale.
She tells herself that the next time the warmth comes,
she’ll let go completely;
at least if she melts, she’ll have her moment
in the sun…
