Aperilis

Staring down the void.
Where are the words to slay the mundane?
The life of a writer,
always aching to say something great.

The budding tree a seductress
to a naked blue sky.
Blushing magnolia buds,
plush with the sweet yearn to spread open.
The spring tree no longer begs it's winter why.
Birds chirp, chipper and wild.
Clamoring mating calls.

But deep in the eaves of the tree,
there is a secret melody more meant for me.
A chant in which hope defies despair.
The armors of yesterday,  I no longer wear.