Stroke of Beauty



The wetness marks the crying of winter, the melting of transitions past.
The warmth relays to the embrace of spring, hoping it has come to last.

With each muddy footprint, each slosh in my shoe, I give an audible grin.
With each drip of water off the rooftop, I smile to the glorious din.

It’s about time for some change, the feel of cold leaving like memories of old.
It’s about time for some change, flowers peek through colorful and bold.

Another year, marked by water entering gutters, and grass again apart of our lives.
Another season, marked with the tears of sad, tears of happy, we know life strives.

It’s with this that only words can paint the canvas, the art-form that is this world.
It’s with this that only words can make us see, the beauty quietly unfurled.

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