The 1 Billionth Poem about Spring

Can anyone say anything new about spring?
Have all the adjectives been used?
Isn’t it funny that Spring gives us an added bounce in our step
And that you feel this spring is so different than last, but
Really you can’t remember the last spring, at least not in detail.
Was it this warm, was it this cool, was the winter long, or did it feel shorter than most?

When I was a teenager, spring brought the thought of an exciting summer,
I just knew that THIS summer something awesome was going to happen
I will turn 46 this summer, and I am still waiting.
Is it that it is never awesome enough? Why am I still waiting?
What was I waiting for?
Oh, yes, the thought of first love;
Someone was going to actually love ME.

I am still waiting. . . not for 1st love, but for true love.

Spring brings the thought of new life, of a personal Easter, a resurrection.
I have spent months feeling dead, on hold, hibernating, again waiting…
Waiting for spring…

I tell my son to get his shoes. . .
I wait. . .

In a small room while my mother has tests to see if the cancer is gone …
I wait. . .

At work, I am spending my time doing something that I have no passion for, watching the clock…
I wait . . .

If I were to put all the minutes of waiting together, how many hours would go by,
How many days?
How many weeks?
How many years?

How could 46 years have gone by already? Where did it go?
What was I waiting for?
No matter how many people were around me I spent my time waiting…
I so wish I had a deep answer to this question.
I so wish that I could say that today I stop waiting, but I don’t if I will do that

Wasn’t this poem about Spring?
Nothing outside is waiting, leaves are blooming and turning green, not waiting for me to be ready.
Birds are singing a sweet spring song, happy to be free again.
All life is moving forward
The clock is not waiting
It will forge ahead in silent rhythm, until I find myself in winter again.

No! I will not go back without seeing today
Without truly feeling the sun on my face,
Without smelling the sweet smell of freshly cut grass
Without having a picnic on the shores of a beautiful lake
Without taking a trek in the woods
Without really seeing those I love, and letting them know I love them.
Spring…
I promise to know you before you leave.