I'll follow the moon

Winter had fallen
The season was absolute
The cooled air choked me, and yet
The snow paved a road to this

A bud, a small shoot
Pressed above the ground
Even through a sheet of ice
I can feel a warmth emanate,
A color free of confine in an endless sea of white

Will it bloom or wither
Should I wait to see?
Shall I sing a dirge to lament it's ephemeral life
Or a pleasant rhapsody
To set it right?

Do I press my lips to this?
Whisper it to end
Or begin it with a kiss?
So fragile yet so beautiful
Yet I digress
The sun's favorable circumstance
Masks kindness with fondness

Even though this may be so
I won't forsake this flower soon
For if the sun should set, you know
I'll follow the moon