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Spring in Full Blossom
A Poem
nature always shows her true colors
when you least expect the rush of it —
the bud beginning to unfurl its petals,
the trees ready to sway their branches —
but we relish the surprise anyway
because beauty seems such a delight
it’s easy then to forget the storms
and the barren fields far from here,
all laid waste under another tantrum
from a mother whose earth is tired —
oh, how we turn our eyes away from it,
the glimpses of a planet on its last breath
but we still have spring in full blossom,
at least for another fair season’s spell,
and soon we will complain of heatwaves
and sunlight so strong it burns our skin —
the repercussions of avoidant concerns
while the world spends its money elsewhere
someday we’ll walk among artificial gardens
and breathe air that’s recycled over and over,
and we’ll marvel at the state of a rose
created by machines rather than nutrients —
oh, did we wait too long to do a thing?
oh, why did we squander so much for so little?
