Awake To the Sky

I am crippled
by the way spring saturates my mind

compressing the thoughts of winter
and all that frozen grief, white and unending,

rain nuzzling the end of my bed
near toes and dreaming.

If the sun returns again tomorrow
and the bright yellow of daffodils smile

I may launch into laughter
knowing I will go to the sea

and dance on the wet sands so alone
I may take flight with every feather

awake to the sky
and the warmth
of all these changing winds.