Spring is in the air.
I feel it beneath a fog of gray clouds.
It's been five years of darkness since COVID,
and my husband's first stroke followed by three more.
Each one a surprise assault, leaving me breathless.

Cold invisible clouds gathered overhead,
following me everywhere.
My joints gave in, my small intestine obstructed,
my heart and lungs were under arrest.
A week in the hospital gave me a break.

And then dreams of flight,
dreams I left behind in my quest for peace.
The nightingale had become harsh, militant,
working overtime with fear,
force-feeding health and healing,
while love was slowly ground away.

And then no more calling on healers,
on angels.
Deep inside is an answer dormant for years,
yet silently stirring,
faith and hope reawakening.

So what if memory fades?
This moment is enough.
Expect nothing,
and nothing becomes everything.

And then spring arrived.
Winter at last melted.

Genie Nakano

October27, 2026