the sun in spring struggles
to rise up from winter’s bed of icy sheets
like Lazarus
gone dead for days
still possessing a smoldering ember
of life light down deep within
still holding fast under death’s frozen shroud
when, come the appointed season
something within him is released
and he rises, slowly, shivering
the frost of nevermore still crusted upon his eyes
as the birds begin to sing a glowing yellow song
and everyone can feel it
something warm and miraculous has come our way
something new and beautiful is happening
and everybody is smiling
as if they’ve never seen
life rise and walk across the sky