Spring - another Tuesday poem on a Wednesday | Listen now...

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Wait and see, the ancient tease: of soup
cooling on the canteen’s steel top,
to boys who cannot sleep on Christmas Eve,
of prey the lion’s yet to catch. Believe,
we’re told, and all will be revealed, as if
we’re children waiting for a treat like Spring.
But Winter light reveals an awkward truth
of half-truth, half worth waiting for, that’s both
good and bad not either/or, etched
with uncertainy. The smiles fetched
through irony’s despairing business day
by day mean more than any one can say,
save this: whatever you salvage of
yourself, treasure what you have of love.

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