Love waits, like the spring crocus,
folded, petal upon petal,
its inner core alive,
pulsing, curling around its destiny.
There is a rustling,
a knowledge that something
wonderful is forming
under the familiar layers
of friendship.
It is hard to judge that moment
when the fire turns
and the budding spikes
into a colorful display
of new beginnings.
Usually we are surprised
to find something so beautiful
springing from the ordinary.
….written by Dee Edgett
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