The willows are calling
The ice-river mellows
Sparrows let forth a cry
Of triumph over Winter, of hope soon unfettered
Captive Spring bursts forth from her chains
The oak trees are hailing
The light in their bosoms
Dancing on leaf and on bough
“Long live the Light!” they cry, never suspecting
Sundance dims and is gasping as Summer’s green fades
The aspens are sighing
As cruel wind through life-shorn limbs
Whirls and moans, lonesome, mournful
The leaves bid farewell to their citadels of strength
As Death’s Phantom unleashes the coming of Winter
The Birches are dying
Stripped of their shields
To nurture the outcasts of Nature
Swift Deer shiver and their pathways are frozen
Joy is swept away in the dismal white desert of Death.
The Pines are all whispering
Beneath their fragile ice prisons
Through the chill and the silence of Darkness
“This is not the end, nor ever shall be,”
Hope rises in the sleeping Spring life of the trees.
The stars are still smiling
From the softness of Spring’s night
Dusk covers light newly reborn
Still the world holds to memory of gentle sunlight
For the snares of Death shall never prevail against Love.