Revelation

                                                spring comes,
                                 and the crows
            call, cawing into 
   the expectant
                      air.                      the early
                                   morning sun
                           warms the                                                
         softening snow,
                                          
                          laying bare the damp leaves
                              that have been pressed
                                 under and held by 
                                         winter's
                                          black 
           i watch                   night.
                 as the leaves
                              are tossed 
                                        and freed 
                                                by a playful breeze.
           and I am grateful,
                                        for each one
                              is a prayer
                   that dares 
        me to be 
hopeful. 

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