Before spring, everything sleeps.
Trees stand bare, flinging branches skyward, searching for the sun.
Seeds hide silently, waiting for warmth to coax out tender green shoots.
This winter, even here, snow has covered the ground like a blanket.
And I too wait.
Trying to patiently endure cold grey skies.
Hoping for some sun.
Waiting to feel the life surge inside - a burst of energy to spring forth new life.
I see hints of green.
I feel surges of the sap rising.
Words and ideas remain buried, anticipating the right time.
Waiting for spring.