Defiance

It is autumn outside my window,
But in here, it is spring.
Painfully buds push their way through the crust
And gasp, shocked at the wide open space,
The air full of longing
And the scent of rain.

Beneath my chest is drumming,
Insistent, threatening a break-out
In defiance of the slowing pace of nature,
As the trees shed their defences
And prepare for silent hibernation.

Cotton-wool-clad sprouts are my thoughts,
Cosseted against the coming cold -
In here, my nursery defies the law of seasons,
Pushing forth anxious, ambitious,
Premature children, clad in the hope
Only worn by spring.