Another night of fractured dreams
led me to the door where meaning lives
alone in the night sky
where dreams blew through
on cold winds of sheeted snow.
Swift yet slow, snow assaulted daffodil
who raised her face up and up and up
until deflated by the stinging slap of snow.
Then, daffodil, without a frown, bent down low.
With the dawn the snow is gone.
Cold remains. Its heavy space
tightening down the hope of grace
from sunny skies and warmer nights,
with gentling dreams of peace
and days of love’s delight
to make the world right.
Whence sleep can, once again,
make dreams whole.
LESSONS IN THE SPRING SNOW
They laugh aloud, the daffodils.
as snow falls, they turn up their faces
to catch a taste of cold.
Magnolia opens wide her blooms
no longer tight, and catches flakes
of snow on her pink face.
The herbs and perennials close ranks.
Sheltered by mulch they give thanks
for the gardener’s attention
to the Spring dissension
among the four winds’ direction.
a morning walk among the brethren
of the garden and its domain
builds trust and faith and hope
in the resilience of plant life.
and promises despite the strife
of pestilence and war
human life will endure.
annarino writes 