Marcy

A wind blows through the naked trees,
With a whisper of what’s to come,
And with the rain that soon will fall,
There remains a promise of coming sun,
Tiny leaves are beginning to form,
the trees soon will have their clothes,
But as they stand in silence,
It’s as if the winter’s their silent repose.
 
 
The rain will make the flowers grow,
The harbinger of spring,
And the flowers seem to line a path,
To all our hearts can bring,
Soon green leaves will move in waves,
Stirred by a gentle breeze,
And as new life springs forth each year,
The past we still believe.
 
 
Fields soon will be bathed in color,
As the forests become seas of green,
And all the new born animals,
Seem to punctuate the scene,
There’s a sort of gentleness,
When with a breeze the plants dance and sway,
Yet in them is an unseen strength,
Because each year they’re here to stay.
 
 
Our emotions seem the mirror,
As each spring hearts seem to stir,
Rising from the inner depths,
To tower like a douglas fir,
The flowers seem to say to us,
With a whisper that’s soft and clear,
Love survives through the winter,
If we allow our hearts to hear.

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