Awakening

It's dark. Even through closed lids I've perceived the monotonous treachery the day has in store. I suppress a moan within my chest, and my bones creak with illusory age. Another dawn which is not impedes upon my shallowest slumber. The persistent knockings of raindrops voice my doubts and shortcomings of the day ahead. How long must I bear the imbalanced sleet extending winter? Though I sleep no longer, the spirited fingers of motivation do not see fit to untwist the lashes of my resting eyes. I seek no better reason to lie in my nest of deepest self-pity. My burrow of darkness may ease my aching body, but it cannot soothe the dread that churns my soul and mind. Who can know? How many sifting moments passed? What portion of my day had faded gently into nonexistence... before that tender song rang out? Yes... I hear it. Not a figure of my desire dragged out to taunt me. No: a simple, cheerful song... perhaps three, or maybe four. My eyes unfold with the wish to validate these incoming perceptions. The gayest chirp of birds amongst the pressured rain? With booming curiosity I stumble from my bed and arrive to a covered window. I draw back the shade as my eyes squint in anticipation of the coming intensity. And it is exposed: the brightest sunlight of the country pierces my tired mind, as there is not one cloud for miles. A smile breaks across my face as I discover the source of raindrop noises: the snow is melting, and the gutter collects its tears.