To all those who wait…
for a too far away Springtime,
with crippling hands
of doubt and uncertainty.
Tears following tears
and sighs the size
of childhood hot air balloons.
In the cold, darkness
before Dawn
with the spectres who chorus
with mind-numbing patience.
Reach for the shadow
before the light.
Pull-forward with a strength,
determination
and courage monumental.
For hope is the killer
yet, also the key.
Through this journey
of misery
the soul was born to endure
and traverse blindly.
Before stallion-breaking
and riding through
the ancient gateways of our leaving.
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