Just Spring

Where are the birds?

I sense the sound of birdsong
The blackbird of the morning
But now the cold wind drives everything in its path

Where are the seeds?

I sense them sprouting
Underground, their soft green caps
Untouched by air or sky

Where is the snow?

The snow that blew across the window yesterday
Is gone, a distant memory
While April’s wind releases her winter madness

Is it truly April?

I feel the same as she does,
Wanting to stir the cold ground
And feel the first blossom of my creativity.