Hyacinths

You brought me hyacinths when there was no spring, And snow lay like a white prayer on the world. Warm blue they were, the color of seas that sing Small broken songs where sunlit tides are curled With all the passion of a lover’s hands, And I could read deep in your eyes of gray The silent thundering love understands, And all the shining words you could not say. Others have brought me light within their eyes, Others have lain their hands upon mine here, But with your hyacinths there blossomed skies Where no cloud was, and sunlight shimmered clear. Pressed now within a book, these hyacinths hold The love you brought me from the blinding cold.