the sound of ice melting

colonnades of golden light
through the twilight of the forest
in the waning of the winter
stillness escalates to spring
crystalized froth calves into cascades
breaking free of frozen silence
the sound of ice melting
quickening in me

nymphs

wisps of mist
the sighs of nymphs
frozen in the sleep abyss
the crystalline dreamscape
embrace of winter
time

awakened by the simple kiss
the warm caress of their dear lovers lips
their lover
who everyone’s lover is
the sun

shift

snowbanks contract
in the relatively sweltering
early springlike temperatures
of this late winter thaw
squeezing out the juice of life
to the cold and softening earth below
where crocuses and daffodils
lie dormantly in dreaming
of days when they uncurl from sleep
and unfurl through the surface
offering their tendrilous light
right up into the sun