Where Life Once Gushed Like a Spring

Where life once gushed like a spring, Now a mute emptiness glows. There's a small, but still a feeling Of the likelihood that we'll meet. We will meet only then When the thaw comes banging at the door. So that the frozen masses of water Could water the withered faith. Faith that this tree of mine Will send its roots down deep. And the grandkids, like a kitten, Will nuzzle up, squinting an eye. I'll touch the heavens with my hands. I'll hug the blackened clouds. I'll try to make them laugh to tears So mine won't be seen on my face. I'll tell of tender dreams — Even the sun will warm its ears. I'm waiting for another spring… But for now I'm still unwell.