Cold (and blossoming)

Send us Fan MailCold (and blossoming)Cold is the frost returning, across the blossoms of early April, falling in flakes of ice upon the frozen hardened ground, for the wind still whispers across the morning silence, beneath the tree tops, standing motionless, in ancient times profound.As above their age and wisdom, the sullen skies cover new life, in cloaks of steel and grey, as dawn wraps the sun in invisible songs of springtime, as hope rises from the distant chime of bells and birdsong,  the birth of lifefor another day And as feathers of snow tumble from the heavens, tickling spring in her remembering, summer waits upon her dreaming, the birth,of summer to come upon the month of May,in twig and brancha [email protected]