Creation’s Signs (Sonnet)
Published in
1 min readFeb 28, 2019
Ice beads on tree branches, lacy limbs, white
fog sky. Silent cold of solstice, frozen
buds and waiting, wanting more. Trust the fight
for spring will win; life is always chosen
by the curtain drop. Germinating, tight
encased in fallow ground; warmth will blow in
when it’s day. Hazy sky will turn to bright.
Seasons shift from snow to green and flow in
new anticipated patterns, cycles.
Young to old and seed to flower, winter’s
sleep to summer’s fruit, living, miracle
of death, deeper love from friendship’s center.
Good needs time to grow and patience, plot lines’
tensions, resolutions. Creation’s signs.
© Christine Salkin Davis, 2019
Originally published at www.focaildoachara.com.
