Frozen to their core
icicles decorating branches
over the snowed-in sea.
Canals you can walk through, over their sleeted floors;
But once, months back and weeks forward,
their blue waves shone under light,
and these trees blossomed in pink,
sprouting fields welcoming spring,
green replacing everywhere
you now see white.
Seems impossible, this radical change.
What is frozen stands still.
Will it be the same with me? With any and all those frozen minds?
Seems impossible, but here it is:
my body, this land,
growing and expanding and loving.
We will see you with the green leaves,
and the blue seas
and the shining skies;
past the cherry trees, then will come
the most impossible, possible change.