There’s a strange grey caste to the sky,

Bright with hidden sunshine.

The wind is chilled by left over Winter,

Blown through our souls,

Taking away with him the end.

Let the cleansing of Spring begin.

Let the new grasses grow.

Let the old worries wither.

—–  Sarah Ockershausen Delp

Have Something to Say? Leave it Here

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Cancel

Connecting to %s