Seven Purple Crocuses

Posted on March 26, 2021 by

55 Comments

crystals coat my eyelashes
and my puffed breath
swirls before my face

the mist runs its fingers
through the low-lying trees
the quiet whisper of dried and
yellowed grass in the slightest breeze
the grasp of winter’s white blanket
still wrapped around their ankles

somehow or other
I catch the glimmer of the sun’s rays
through shadowed branches
and I breathe deeper

a spot of bright light
rests on my cheek
dims when the fog thickens ever so

the hollow ache in my breast tightens
and I wonder
is this the day in which
my heart bursts and ends everything

a shiver dances down my spine
I smell snow-covered branches
and I keep walking

today or tomorrow
I’ll keep watching the skies
and hoping for winter’s end

my foot treads something softer
and I look down to see the bright faces
of seven purple crocuses
filled with ice crystals and hope

together pushing their way
into the cold air
a marvel, a wonder

I look to the veiled sun
my lips turn up slightly
and I continue on
puffing and crunching snow

and the tightness in my chest
loosens just a little

tara caribou | ©2021

Category: Poetry, tara caribouTags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

55 Comments on “Seven Purple Crocuses”

  3. … the hollow ache indeed. i feel so many can relate to a hollow ache. that line stood out to me so much.

    maybe a hollow ache makes us feel enough to really want to struggle and reach and hold onto what we ache for.

    hope is everything to me.

    loved this one.

    Liked by 6 people

    • Interestingly, I began writing this with a different mindset, setting out to spill my guts yet again about something or other but this piece came out instead. Certainly the hollow ache was the main thing I was punishing myself for. That damn ache. But as you say: hope is everything. I’m so pleased this one reached out to you.

      Liked by 3 people

      • this one was very special. sometimes a single line for me brings a whole work into a context i can relate to – and i get that it might not be for anyone else, maybe even the author, but isn’t that the wonderful outcome of ‘spilling’. maybe somewhere in there people can embrace in an understanding of the things that we all deal with and hold close that the people who we laugh with, really genuinely, we can cry with. they are both wonderful and liberating experiences i feel.
        this was really good. really got to me. thank you !

        Liked by 3 people

        • Comments like this really touch my heart. Truly. Because I realize sometimes maybe I CAN help others or move them in some way. And that’s all I ever really set out to do.

          Liked by 2 people

  12. The hope of spring, I like it, Tara. So the Alaskan winter is finally coming to an end and the purple crocuses have left hibernation. How about the bears?

    Liked by 4 people

    • Nahhh this is definitely NOT my reality. We don’t have wild crocus for one. For two, there’s at least four feet of snow outside still. This is all just simply, poetry. I can imagine it.

      Liked by 1 person

  15. Beautifully descriptive, Tara, and of course a wonderful metaphor. At times I think we internalise the intensity of the longing and then the realisation of something new never quite lives up to it.
    Sorry, that sounds a bit maudlin! Of course the ‘Spring’ is always worth the wait.
    Wonderful poem.

    Liked by 4 people

  17. Spring always comes, no matter the winter. I absolutely love to see the first crocuses and hyacinth here. Brings me hope too. Well done!

    Liked by 4 people

  18. the tightness in my chest
    loosens just a little

    Even just that much is often such a relief. Resilience is seen so beautifully in spring breaking out of winter – your poem was absolutely beautiful to read 💛

    Liked by 4 people

  20. Wow! I so loved this piece and your wonderous capture of the moment, Tara!! So Beautiful!
    Especially loved these lines:
    “the grasp of winter’s white blanket
    still wrapped around their ankles”

    and

    “my foot treads something softer
    and I look down to see the bright faces
    of seven purple crocuses
    filled with ice crystals and hope”

    An amazing masterpiece, painted with your words! Bellissimo, My Dear Bellissimo!
    xoxox
    Chuck
    😘💕💖🎁🌹🌹

    Liked by 4 people

    • Thank you so much, Chuck! I sure appreciate you taking the time to read and leave your kind comments. I love the snow and think of it as a blanket for the land, and how it wraps elegantly around small branches and clumps of grass is fascinating to me.

      Liked by 2 people

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