"Spring"

Despondent and grey, the first faint of light appears in the window. 

The glare slithers.

The radiance glows. 

The intricate illumination, which seldom awakens a well-worn soul, burnishes in impassitivity.

The day star aflames.

It's 5:30 am.

Slothfully, like all days in the past, I open my eyes to the gentle indifference of the world. Life is to be spent anew, over and again.

But today is quite different.

The lethargy of winter is melting. 

The weather is less hostile.  

The morning due is pleasantry fresh. 

The sky is lucent.

The flowers bloom.

All else is bracing.

Then suddenly, like every after state of dormancy, comes a season for renewal; a time for change, a time for growth, a time for progression.

Spring, in all its vitality, re-paints the varied landscapes of life:

The barren becomes fertile. 

The sterile becomes productive.

The desolate becomes festive.

"It is [therefore] the hour to rend thy chains", as Katherine Lee Bates says, "the blossom time of souls." 

14.09.20190

2:17 AM