Bud [Poem]

Opening, pushing through
budding, birthing
the cold has done
its work.

Growth under surface
harboring, planning
then release.

Motion, captured
in green
it comes through
moment by moment.

Tender, fragile
yet strong
and determined
to find the light.

The results of spring are being accomplished during the hard and seemingly “dead zone” of winter. It looks like things are dormant, frozen, even dead, but beneath the surface, there is labor happening and good things are just around the corner.

2 thoughts on “Bud [Poem]”

  1. Mary Henderson (Mom)

    Lovely poem, Lauren.
    Reminds me of:

    Just remember… in the winter… far beneath the winter snows…
    Lies the seed …that with the sun’s love… in the spring… becomes the rose.

    A beautiful metaphor.


    1. Thanks, Mom. “Some say love . . . ” I remember that song well!

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