A moment of hope

and it goes like this,
the songs of autumn fade
giving rise to winter winds,
not like the cool breezy
monsoon winds,
but cold chilly ones,
the birds migrated long ago,
to warmer lands,
guess they are afraid
to face the truth,
the tress are bare,
for they are saving
the last drops of water,
only I am left
with a white face,
shrinking body,
but an awakened mind,
migrating nowhere,
not hibernating,
not even saving,
for I have nothing,
just,
waiting for you,
counting every moment,
bearing the chill,
not for death,
I am too optimistic,
for that,
but for you
my dear spring.