Child Of Ice

Remember the child of the ice
listening intently as if awaiting what
from among those heights; of wind blown crags?
Straining to catch each word, dripping
dripping slowly, from melt thawing ice.
Like a grain of wheat waiting
for the sun the warmth the water.
Hopelessly longing for season of growth
to burst forth heralded by breath of spring.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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