A piece of brevity on spring.
Birthed by the most ancient and wise of years
it was ferried in the bassinet of wind's caring clasp,
to rest in the careworn lines of a fallen uncle
and of nourishment take in his eruditious soil
Through cloud and gale and warmth of night
he perseveres and weathers each atrabilous eve,
to rise to the heavens with verdant arms
setting down his rooted feet in prudence of the past
For to the knowledge of the dawns light
he must seek the canopy to break,
and in the shaded arms of his native kin
he holds the earth and binds it to the luminescence above.