The Lost Spring

The growth of young saplings,
They emerge from the ground,
It is their time to shine.
The birth of a new being,
It emerges from the womb,
Bringing tears of joy at it's first whine.

They wait for the sun,
Dark, dead months of cold weather are gone,
The sun is supposed to shine, it has to propel their growth.
But this year around it's broken its unforgivable oath.

They were waiting, he would be their first,
A man they would raise, proud parents they would be,
But it was a girl, a beautiful child,
Cast away she was, an infant, in her sleep.

The saplings stay underground,
It's cold and upsetting,
The monotony of loneliness and fading hope sets in,
They wonder quietly what they could've done wrong.

Their thoughts are reflected by the girl on the streets,
Confused and lost, she's just a child can't they see?
She has no where to go and no one to meet,
Terrified, she just goes and falls at God's feet.

Buried deep underground,
The plants are just giving up,
When they hear His voice, loud and clear,
Forbidding them from succumbing to fear.

The girl, she stumbles out and sees,
A little shoot barely poking out,
Reaching for the stars it seems,
Strained with figmental effort it teems.

Tears come streaming down her face,
As she realizes she's part of something big,
She feels wanted and belonged to the core,
Something she's never felt before.

She steadies herself and crouches down,
The shoot is barely visible,
But to her it is a crucial sign of hope,
To overcome her helplessness it gives her scope.

Twenty years she promises hence,
When she's made it through the perils of life,
When she's watching her own daughter on a swing,
She's going to laugh about this lost spring.