At a time

At a time
When things weren't as gloomy
As they could have been,
They were slightly grey
And dreary
To say the least,
But not unbearable or completely lacking.
A spring of hope,
Of trust and comfort
Of the loveliest Jasmin-infused spring breeze
You decided to knock on my door
Forcing me, but lovingly forcing me
To open that creaky wooden door
Which had been locked
For the long winter months
Wood almost petrified
And heavy to open.
The hinges whinged under its weight,
The silhouette of hope
Allowing me to not be blinded
by the new light and warmth
a taste of summer coming
of fresh air
of a warm heart
and of a warm hand.