Outside My Morning Window

When first the small white flowers appear having folded into themselves through their Winter conserved of energy, minimized of beauty so delicate by themselves but Together they hang balanced on the ends of leaves   as though one large flower formed on the red tips of branches still Singular as they bend to morning breezes

back and forth, back and forth and stretch straight and strong

reaching to the sun as though ready to launch from the fiery comfort of soft, lush nestle.

Tiny birds beneath them forage for morsels dropped insects fly with lazy wings and determination in patterns mapped by unknown ancestors waiting to be accidentally welcomed by musky, sticky petals a feast of blossom unnoticed only until they disappear.

​These morning flowers unexpected in the early chill stand sentry to their own beauty bright in the Spring sun they do not sparkle but instead absorb their light glowing and casting color  

against the barren backdrop of my Winter.​​​​​​