Spring Only Sleeps by Wildflower

Writer's Workshop

It was hard to tell she was there, laying still under the winter’s blanket sound asleep, taking her turn she rests so quietly.

Waiting her time through the short days and long nights, if the truth be known she was renewing, healing, growing.

Her name was Spring. When the time was right and she was ready to arise, she would stir and wiggle her toes. Stretching and yawning, she will sit up, ready to embrace the world again with energy, movement, color and song.

Rolling back snowdrift blankets, she will give birth to all the beauty and wonder she carried in her belly that belonged to life.

With h...


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