Her joy will eventually emerge
like a single blade of grass slicing
through slowly melting snow.
Winter’s frost patterns adorn memories
of fond summers and soft falls
but her joy is starting to emerge.
Like velvet pussy willows bravely standing
in a pool of spring sunshine,
back to the wind, she emerges.
Strong, serene, one with the world,
at peace within her skin,
she emerges. Her joy emerges.