February

Once upon a cold day,

When I opened the window,

To let in a balmy ray.

I could not help but fix my gaze,

On a sublime drop of haze.

Quietly settled on the window pane,

Shining like a crown in its full reign.

I wondered what this little dew must think,

Of its end separated by only a wink.

As the sunshine grew and glow,

My heart was struck by a mild blow.

I do not know what it was,

My own nostalgia or its loss.

"Silly and forgettable", I told myself,

Think no more and spare yourself.

The bright day kept unfolding and,

I stood there, beholding.

The dance of light and a tiny battle,

Between the sun and the drop's mettle.

Both stood their ground and so did I

Like a good spectator with a keen eye.

What happened next is nobody's guess,

The drop exploded into a watery mess.

Trickling down the pane endless,

And through its misty crevice.

I saw a spring shaped revert,

Illuminated in cold January.

February is here, I could feel its tip-toes,

And as the drop continued to trace its fall.

I paused and realized how grateful I was,

To witness this little miracle tussle,

Between the drop and the golden glow.

Delighted and no more gloomy,

I felt as rosy-eyed as the February blooming.

Behind my window glass,

And I blessed the little blob for the courage it amassed.

A while later when I saw the window,

I found its entire facade aglow.

Showing a bright colorful canvas with no dew,

Only a few sparkles as if spelling a huge "Thank you".

Is this how mists lose their mirages,

Birthing new days and.

Turning into clear mornings,

Thanking the sun for its yearnings?

Gratitude is a lifelong hope, learned,

Through hard lessons and much deeper themes.

I learned them all on that cold day,

That openness to receive the warmth,

That undeterred wait and no love shorn.