you cannot force

spring,

upon a

wintering heart, and

you can

throw blossoms

at the cherry tree,

untamed

and

naked

in her grief, but

she will not

bloom

wild

white

hope,

until her barrenness

is over

and a new season

swells

within her.

— in the season of (another’s) discouragement.

© Liezel Graham 2018.