a moment's making

They say March comes in like a lion.
I feel this lion at my back, urging, roaring, prodding me forward
not fear, not danger, but
the intensity strips me bare

Every part of me unfolded

this lion is the wind that wears me, through and over
the reminder that growth comes slowly
small green buds push mightily through wet dirt
birth is never easy

and I wonder
with this neverending wailing
when does softness come

I reach you, in moments
I feel the tender whisper of your touch

yet the lion reminds me more is coming
more might be done
that more might be found

I greeted this lion
let him in
I didn't expect
but who ever does

even in spring's sweetness there is danger
of life giving birth to itself, again
the uncertainty of becoming

yet in all of it the beauty of a moment's making