In the mourning quiet of the dawn,
I watched light shadows traverse the lawn,
saw colored leaves on sleepy boughs,
watched daddy mockers stuff yearning mouths.

And as I sat upon the rocky ledge,
I pondered opportunities, new life on the edge.
My mind, I wandered, of this first morn of spring,
to grasp what growth, this new season might bring.

I reflected on new budding Wisteria
its calm growing climb amidst living hysteria.
A new viney bud slowly ascends a great oak�
puts on new green, throws off hoar-frosted cloak.

Yet, when late winter ice falls,
to cover ground and hallowed halls
with sparkling frozen latticed mesh
and limn the tress w� leering diamond flesh�

Tis then the Wisteria puts on her crown,
of lavender blossoms hanging down,
and fills the air with such heady scent,
you�d swear this vine was from heaven lent!

�wrinkles in time, a tree�s phthisical skin
lines the face, yet covers not the grin
of ancient entity looking down
on this new vines� growing gown.

A thought I had while returning to life...