Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul – and sings the tunes without the words – and never stops
at all. — Emily Dickinson
Winter glistens; white fractals sparkle
from frosted topsoil.
Squabbling blue jays scold.
Lesser Goldfinches scurry
beneath scarlet salvia bushes.
A single calla lily unfurls puritan cowl
among orange nasturtium flowers.
Hyacinths extend pink and purple spires.
Narcissus explode snowy firework blooms.
Spring erupts in yellow jonquil clusters.
I celebrate re-awakening earth,
give thanks for resurrected sweet peas,
cloudless morning, dewy oxalis.
We’ve survived another year
of isolation, reflection.
Poem by Jennifer Lagier
Jennifer Lagier has published nineteen books. Her work appears in a variety of anthologies ezines, and literary magazines. She taught with California Poets in the Schools, edits the Monterey Review, helps coordinate Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Sunday readings. Recent publications: Rising Voices: Poems Toward a Social Justice Revolution, Syndic Literary Journal, Fog and Light: San Francisco Through the Poets Who Live There, Second Wind: Words & Art of Hope & Resilience. Her most recent books: Meditations on Seascapes and Cypress (Blue Light Press), COVID Dissonance (CyberWit), and Camille Chronicles (FutureCycle Press).