in the forest there is a place
where the moss has blanketed the ground
with a most soft embrace.
this place, this sacred space,
where wind and snow nor blow or know
sprouts a dream!
a tiny green dancing queen
that sings and believes in springs wanderings
unfurls / uncurl (ing)
her leafy soul to catch the winter's daydreams,
each perfect snowflake, on her brow
just to shake them to and fro
to let the winter know...
her power is growing.
may spring find your winter path and inspire you to dance in the sunlight falling through the trees.