Winifred’s Psalm

Snowdrops and daffodils will appear

a mere six weeks hence,

the first resurgent reminiscents

For what was buried lay hidden here,

presumed dead, yet

always resilient and

ever resplendent

perennial reminders that all is not everclear.

Nor is their showy appearance

any more wondrous

than my own involuntary breath

the rise and the fall of my unwitting chest.

Tonight as I retire,

I expire,

then respire

over and over, trusting I will rise again, afresh.

So then, despite this present darkness, take cheer.

Snowdrops and daffodils will appear

a mere six weeks hence.

They are Spring’s promise to Winter’s solstice.