The Misty Morning Gloom Meets the Future Bloom

A March walk poem

Photo by Walter P.o.p. Matthews IV

As I walk through the mist, fog,

and the barren trees

It is the end of winter

I see the first sign of the leaves

The buds of hope

I imagine all of the abundance of

My seeds

We’re about to flourish

In fresh fragrances

Emanating from the flowers

I will sing a new song

The cold will be devoured

By the warm days

The clouds overflow

With sun rays

I get so amazed when

I experience

Those morning flow states

Creativity awakens

My mindless distractions

gets overtaken

By the bloom

I make room

for what was planted

Is born

In the vivid colors

We are adorned

After these frigid storms