Ode to Lilacs

Displayed before my house
lies a line
of lilac bushes.
Short in life,
but long in beauty.
In the grey
of a soggy day,
stuck in the limbo
of frost and dew,
the tickling scent
slowly pulls me into a new.
They kiss my fingertips
like little pastel raindrops.
Whispering
Promising
A new start
is approaching.
They’re delicate flowers,
Bending,
opening themselves.
Spreading
like angel wings
or open arms.

Paper petals
Purple perfection.
Beckoning birds to emerge.
To sing and rejoice
ringing their song of celebration.
Inspiration of the new chapter.
The new start.
The new spring.
The coldness is over.
The numbness subsides.
The lilacs linger in the newborn sun,
sparkling sounds of dew dropping
through the bushes
onto the ground.
But as the season grows stronger,
the flowers grow weaker.
Fainter.
Flittering away,
leaving a taste of hope in my mouth
and serenity in my soul.