Finding

I found a tree,

which flowered

even though the frost

was barely gone.

I sat, pondering how

I had leafed

When I thought all hope was gone.

I found a flower,

which leaved and

sent blue bells up

Skyward.

I stood,

rake in hand

admiring the traitor

Red bud, Judas tree,

that blooms before Easter.

I hoped,

foolish as I was,

That the day of fools

would enlighten me.

It lightened the burden

But not my weight.

I saw myself

mirrored in the water,

sky, ice, leaves

and was gladly able

to love myself.