The wind carries tales of green daring whispers,
Soft murmurs beneath the tender thawing veil.
Forgotten paths in the forest of whispers,
Where sunlight sketches stories on the damp earth.
Question of spring, where do you reside?
In the bloom of silent petals, brittle dewdrops cling,
In the robin’s song, cradled by the morning light;
Beneath the thawed memory of frost, you breathe the dawn.
An echo of yesterday’s rains, soft and fragile,
The secret buried in the roots, stories scattered like seeds
Across the yawning fields of awakening blue;
Seek the hidden question in the rustling of new leaves.