Originally published at: http://www.horsesense.ws/virginspring.htm
This winter bore a virgin spring.
The mountains shed their snowy veil
And donned a purple gown of sage,
of columbine and fairy tale.
As a mountain: How stoicly
I my silent vigil keep.
As melting snow: How quickly love
begins to thaw and seep.
Into wandering streams: How aimlessly
my solemn life has run.
Into mountain lakes: So deeply cold,
so coldly still alone.
How gladly deer, from crag to slope,
upon the mounts cavort;
As sadly I resort to flight
from airy dreams
to bankrupt hope.
And I am still as much alone,
just as much alone.
But when a fragrant scent of spring
the newborn world secretes,
Its joyous reawakening
the wintry death defeats.
For life, endued with hope, endows
creation with this yearning:
We know the ebb is lowest
when the tide is turning.
Then birds and beagles,
cows and coyotes,
snakes and chickens all join in:
Their chirping, barking, lowing,
baying, hissing, clucking affirmation:
Life is good!
And springtime moves the coldest beast
to find a mate,
to begin again.
We must find its promise
and hold fast
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