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This hillside drips from an unseen source,
weeps and feeds ferns
clinging to the wet rock

And a bird cries
The trees listen

The smell of mud and wet cedar
comfort me when I pull
the damp Kleenex from my face

Tears bubbling to the surface
making real what I have kept under guard

And the trees listen
They lean-in to console me

The white sky too
sends down small tears,
cleansing tears
Like mine

These tears are Spring.
They are new life
spawning green shoots
up through the moldy leaves of Fall

The trees smile
and hold me while my tears flow.
Their fingers tipped
with new tender needles

A bird sings
And the trees nod
And I know
these tears are my new beginning
My Spring


About createthedawn

Dawn’s calling is for her poetry to “light the gloomy corners of the world.” She facilitates writing workshops both online and face-to-face and is a dynamic speaker on inspiration, innovation, change, and healing. Dawn believes in the power of poetry to process, to focus, to align, and to find our way to happiness and fulfillment. Thus, her business and her blog are called: create the dawn.
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