The sun is caught in the crook of a tree,
It's colors shining pure yellow, orange, and gold.
Birds call all around, the Robin, the Jay.
Singing so happy and bold.

Spring is returning to these ancient hills,
Even though each tree stands stark and bare.
But life is coming back, the sap is rising,
And Crocuses have popped up here and there.

Winter has been hard, so much snow and ice.
Everything was frozen, there was no relief.
We were getting tired of our hibernating ways.
We saw periods of sadness, of loss, some grief.

A new season is dawning and glowing now.
We start to come out of our shells.
Walking the old roads as if they are new.
Breathing deeply, drinking from springs' well.

The sun has broken free of the crook of the tree,
The breeze causing the limbs to sway.
And we smile with the rising of the sun
As we set forth on this very fine day.

Jane Ellen Slone ©
3-10-09
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