In Need of Paper White Lilies

I'm in need of paper white lilies,

unbending beneath steel-lined clouds


that bow to fertile Earth,


and life giving burial grounds.

Endless gray misty mornings

that stretch into the night;

I appraise a sleepy world,

I gaze on the gauze filled sight.

I'm in need of paper white lilies,

whose crowned heads come burgeoning forth

from a quiet slumbering bed,

like a resurrected corpse.

This birth from decaying blanket,

whose fragrance fills the air

and pushes away woolen complacency

that is evident there.

I'm in need of paper white lilies,

that burst up from underground

released from cold, quiet stillness

and unleashes hope from its bounds.

(I love you, Spring!)