though the sky is grey,

and the land still waterlogged,

from my window

I see blossom budding,

the flush of pale green leaves unfurling,

the birds have a new energy,

some quite feisty as they jostle for position

claiming territory, and mates,

then from my window I see one tree,

stark against the burgeoning the landscape,

bare branches piercing the sky,

empty,

I am that tree,

new life has not graced it yet,

not outwardly,

not noticeably,

but inside,

sap is rising,

life is stirring,

the seasonal transformation is happening,

drawn up though deep roots,

hope will break through,

an apology has been offered,

a hand has been extended,

it is time to let go,

life rises to claim life,

I can do no more….

but wait…

spring is coming…

hope is breaking through…