Of Spring

My baby came forth with hands so small,

With feet so soft and smile so bright

as Spring’s sweet glow.

It was as if the spring of her life was the spring of mine too.

 

Spring, they say, is the season of hope.

The blossom for me was her sweet glow,

Her laughter, the sound of crickets and bees buzzing through

And her smile, the hundred sunflowers dancing in the sun-kissed meadows.

 

I have suffered winter before.

I have cried a rain or two too,

I have breathed the crisp summer winds,

And have heard the laughter of the valleys too.

 

Yet, this spring I laid on, in a blue hospital gown, 

looking at her sleeping on the aisle below

She soon cried hope as the summer winds blew.

 

Then a speck of yellow as bright as a dandelion 

But with a dusky hew.

The nurse cried “havoc”;

I cried red too.

 

For then I promised her a golden charm

That “I shall dream a dream of hope for us tonight”,

But soon, I could no longer bear to see the autumn leaves cry.

 

She put her hand into mine

And I kissed her goodbye.

 

Then a winter breeze swept once more

She coughed once, twice and breathed no more.

People came in, cried a tear or two

And took her away,

But I moved no more.

 

Up above, among the wavering winter winds, 

I saw her soul flying far away,

I try to reach but my hands too short,

With tears in my eyes, I was fading away.

 

“Fare thee well, Fare thee well.

Fare thee well for we shall meet again.

Fare thee well! Come as spring to me once more.” 

I whispered, thus, to my love and moved no more

(Source of Image: Google)