Soft as downy feathers,
the world covered in snow,
like a winter wonderland,
though it be spring.
The snow was heavy,
and the weight of a breeze,
a moment of sunshine,
and the snow started falling,
off of the trees.
Soft as downy feathers,
and as pure as white snow,
I rocked my sweet babies,
in truly my spring.
My babies grew heavy,
and the weight of breath’s breeze,
a moment of sunshine,
and the babes began growing,
as tall as the trees.
Soft and heavy,
we all are,
in the cycle of life,
as we grow up,
and as we grow old.
© Elaine Wood-Lane
4/19/16
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