The daffodils are in bloom

The daffodils are in bloom and they can hear your ears. They know what’s happening, they know what will happen. They know every spring and they will know it soon. The will speak to the trees and whisper through the leaves, and the leaves will rustle in return, and soon the daffodils will issue their primary concerns. They will issue it with long and sorrowful mourning, and no one will listen. No one will listen to the daffodils’ warnings. The daffodils are in bloom and they can see your fears. But no one will see them, not even their tears.