Alpine Spring (poem)


New, bright, green and silky leaves

Next to old, dark, sharp needles,

Together in sunlit harmony.

I run my fingers over them all,

There is no prickling, only soft caress on my palm.

On this fresh spring day, when I am crossing the Alps,

My soul cherishes the new beginnings, everything is calm.

Short note: This poem started to write itself urgently in my head when we were going through the beautiful Alps in Italy 🙂

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