Strangely In between

suddenly

it is all gone

all the warmth and vitality

the brightness of early buttercups

the first burgeoning greenness

this sun rises cold

and stares down on a bleak and sterile world

which, once teeming with life

now lies dead

buried

beneath a frozen whiteness

we know that life will come again,

will come again,

will come again

that once again the irresistible

power and warmth of Light

will thaw the frozen world

and bring forth

life

raw and new

but on this bleak morning

in this time of interim

where we are strangely in between

we can but wait

and hope