May

The hush of winter slips away, 

In silken light of budding May. 

Where dew like diamonds wakes the morn, 

The world feels freshly reformed. 

A breeze, half whisper, half a hymn, 

Moves through the trees on morning's brim. 

Soft blossoms fall from cherry boughs, 

Spring's gentle hand fulfils her vows. 

Yet more than bloom and robin's song, 

There stirs a sense we've waited long. 

A pulse beneath the greening earth, 

A breath before a dream finds birth. 

For every leaf and skyward ray, 

Speaks not just now, but what may stay. 

And if we let the light pour through, 

Hope finds the soil to root and bloom. 

Then love, long hushed, begins to sing, 

A tender, trembling, radiant thing. 

It stirs in hearts that dare to bloom, 

And floods the world with soft perfume. 

By Jo K.