Spring's breeze

If this is what spring was all about
Then thousand winters are worthwhile;
For the breeze that drenches me in love
Carries signature of the long hidden eyes.

I am able to see in darkness again,
Able to again lose myself
                       in deep dark fortress
 Where a flicker of hope winks
And today I dream to take your hand
And pull you close to this mad mess.
The poet has finally met the insane breeze
The one that cries, hurts, cares and kills.

If this, my wonder, is Spring
How glad I am to rest in peace
If this, O bird, is the breeze
May the bard live forever in me.