Beyond

Beyond the politics of it all

and 

the snowstorms that

slam our souls

with waves of words that

contradict everything we are,

the morning glories

will still bloom in the spring

and

the earth will cast a spell

into our winter hearts.

The spring rain will fall

with the song of the swallow.

The willows will sing with the morning wind

and

the flowers will begin to awaken

within our hearts

as we 

realize that the winter was just all noise,

all meaningless words cast in an  endlless space of  anger painted across pages of zeroes 

and

meaningless formulas across computer screens.

The sound of the morning rain

casts its own spell

and

the warmth of sunlight

draws us back from the edge of meaningless words.

The song of the willow no longer weeps

from the onslaught of winter storms.

And

the sound of birdsong returns us to the moment we were born.