when I missed spring.

I long for the light,
light that soaks in sunshine
and breathes it out slowly
and softly onto my face.
Light that makes my camera dance
with the assurance of a bokeh-filled photo,
depth being no problem in its presence.
Light that lifts me up at the corners,
where grayness tends to lull me
into consistent winter boredom.

I long to feel the aroma of tulips
so thick it sits on my skin
but can be wiped away
as easily as the lovers kiss
from the night before.

I long for strong rains
and deep valleys of green
soaking in every ounce of moisture
in the earth’s gentle skin.

Spring calls
and brings its radiance with it
too seldom for my aching pores.

But mostly,
it is the light
I long for in the dark.

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