The fresh scent of a crisp spring evening, Warm light dancing off a shimmering stream, A Bluebird glides along on a velvet breeze.
Robins hop about merrily in search of a worm, The placid vernal wind rustles the lime green early spring leaves, And an Owl stands on a branch above it all, Watching the sun dip below the mountain, As dusk slowly encroaches.
These are the gentle moments of nature, Where there is solace and hope, And tranquility reigns supreme.
We have been through the cold night of that; there is no doubt. Yet battered, bruised, and grieving, we now emerge, just as the tumultuous icy clutches of winter give way to a tranquil spring. We now watch as the cold despair which has so long encased us now melts into hopeful determination.
The sun creeps ever so slowly over the snow-covered mountain, Cardinals sing out to the new mornings’ arrival, Cold wind whips over the placid landscape, A flock of Geese cries out overhead, As they glide on in V formation.
The tiny creek slowly trickles on as ice floats downstream, A bright orange Fox leaps through the new-fallen snow in search of breakfast, The sky above the bucolic scene is painted a light shade of amber, Giving warmth to the frozen earth below.
Most mornings begin like this, With balance and tranquility, Nature’s symphony continuing.