To Spring

Held in the caress
of Spring´s gentle breeze,
are fresh flowers
for Winter weary trees.

Whose song is the voice
of singing birds,
sweet melodies to calm
the sky and Earth.

Wildflowers sway
and the air is sweet,
for the waltzing wasp
and the amorous bee.

The Nightingale heralds the sun
over the hills and plain,
as the Song Thrush sings
to the clouds for rain.

Upon the land
and in the sky,
fair blossom clouds
sail silently by.

Casting sunlit jewels
through rainbow shades,
upon Winter´s last snow
that gently fades.

Butterflies float and flirt
with the wind,
across the meadows
upon flower petal wings.

Cold the Winter stars
that kiss the March winds,
that seed the ragged roots
where new life begins.

And all is joy and mirth
for the painted sky
and Earth that sing.