The snow has transformed,

nursing the meadows.

White lilies hatch

from their submersed eggs,

stretching their necks to the sun.

The dogwood blossoms 

paint a pink canvas,

dotted with the colors of bees hard at work.

The butterflies,

so nonchalant,

sip their fill of nectar.

In the April breeze,

fly the seeds of the dandelion,

descending into a valley so verdant,

while thunderclouds

blacken the sky a world away.

It is time to emerge

from a long winter’s sleep,

to end the pastoral dream,

because duty beckons.

While I have slumbered,

so much has gone awry:

The rivers dammed,

the animals slaughtered,

the villages burned,

and on and on.

The burden is mine.

A choice must be made.

How will I proceed?

Do I ravage and destroy,

seek vengeance,

and feel power’s rush?

Or proceed along a healer’s path, 

building bridges 

and removing fences?

I do not wish

 to seal the fate 

of those who hate.

Let my spirit 

be the guide:

In beauty should you walk;

with compassion, must you proceed;

with love, greet the day;

with amity below you, find support;

with friendship about you, join hands;

Let the beauty of spring 

return once again.

Quote Text goes here. Just a short blurb about
your inspiration or your book’s audience.

David Di Paolo

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