There Have Been Days
There have been days when there has been little hope.
My eyes turn inward, and I am appalled at the sight.
For all my careful planning, my calculated hellos, things have disbanded—
I have been hiding from my fears.
This fear, as it grips me, sinks its teeth into my soul: icy cold
And unforgiving. Alone in my head, alone in my bed...
But wait, what's this? The flowers are in bloom? The birds call out;
There is joy on the wind—where has it come from,
What could this be? This Spring-time rush that has liberated