Meltwater

I am Old Man Winter
you are young, wild and freewheeling Spring
and even if my screams wail,
"Mercy! Oh, Mercy,"
you warm my heart child
---
In my wake you leave the meadow,
the purple flowers,
the red flowers,
and the sun shines on them
---
I am remembered,
I am not forgotten
---
My blood boils down canyons,
and cliffs
slides over rocks and meadows
into swamps, ponds and lakes
---
You, my child will birth Summer,
as I birthed you,
and she will birth Fall,
and one day soon,
I will reawaken saddened
by my loss of you
and my cold heart will freeze the land,
- yet, eventually, it will change
when again, young, wild and freewheeling Spring,
you warm my heart
---
And in my wake you leave the meadow,
the purple flowers,
the red flowers,
and the sun shines on them
---
I am remembered,
I am not forgotten