Deserts Blossom like Fields of Flowers

I shake a thought loose from the webs of night,
like something hidden under snow, revealed by sun.
Under the warmth it's bearing down, with light,
and the emerging of a clear form has begun.

Oh, light and warmth, you were thin these days,
of winter's chill white filling every trough and ridge.
Now, like the thoughts that clear from slumber's murky haze,
from yesterday to now appears a bridge.

Things that were tucked away--or not--in fall
take concrete form as snow becomes a slush.
The bare vines clinging to the rocky wall,
and spectral flower stalks salute the dripping brush.

Dreamy amorphous impressions now take form
things vaguely imagined, visualized, reward my hours.
a result, may be concrete, from my brainstorm.
That dead patch, with time and care, a bed of flowers.