While Sitting at The Edge of a Window: A Poem On Spring

While Sitting at The Edge of a Window

Left open just enough

To let in the sweet smells

The wind, soft, comes up.

Strong in the name of Spring,

Winter calming.

It's cold, only a memory.

The sweetness that Spring brings.

The wind it moved

Strong as ever, still

With joyous melodies

Ringing in its mind

It told the trees of what’s to come,

And they, delighted more.

So, too they grow

Arms reaching forward.

Leaves budding, warm against the wind.

This Spring rain,

It is a remedy carried by the wind.