Spring Comes to Life - Poetry and Photography
"I'll come back for you after frost departs..."
A message about Spring: In photography and poetry
Photography and poetry come together from either a photographer or a poet's point of view. Instantly, pictures spell out words and messages are formed bringing out beauty in a different phase. These two factors contribute to one beautiful piece, whatever it may be, for however the viewer sees it. Hope you will enjoy the combination.
"SPRING OF HOPE", a poem
Buried cold beneath the hardened earth, my feet numbed as if anesthetized;
Long months of under soothing sleep, I clasp my tender strengths, paralyzed.
A man braved to visit his rested mother on one afternoon towards a dreary winter night,
Attended only by the unmindful small creatures hungry from the frozen ground;
He looked around and not one crisp-wilted condoling flower he had found.
He knelt right on, next to his mother's tomb and cried, “Oh, mother how I miss your lovely face.”
His tears streaming cold on his cheeks so pale; his body shivering in the moonlight's grim embrace.
The trees hushed as his cold breath whispers crystalized, he sobbed once more…
“There are no flowers growing around this time, mama. You are the only flower around here.”
“I’ll come back for you after frost departs, worry not during my absence for it is near.”
Then he struggled with his numbed knee and wiped the last teardrop from his cheek;
I watched helplessly in silence, nothing I can do to comfort this lonely meek.
If only I could show him, come the day of rainshowers, the birth of spring...
That I will be along his mother's grave, to return the kind of life she once shared;
Now, radiant, fresh and fair to repay his mother’s love for the flowers she had cared.
≈ ♥ ≈
If you like this poem, you might like to check out the other poems I have published:
- A Poem: WISHFUL LONGING
- Rain a Poem
A short poem about taking benefit of an early morning rain in winter, when to linger in bed listening to the sound of raindrops and the cool air casting its spell was a comforting moment to stay snuggled in bed with the one close to your heart.
- ...when you are silent by the grief of silence in violence.
My eyes are aware feedin’ off the manifestation of pain and degradation; settlin’ in the nation of innocent bystanders and victims of warfare...