The Promise

Across the meadow flows the song,
The little lark with joy in its heart,
Rhythmically singing of bright and fragrant days,
To emerge from winter days too long.

Look to the east for the warm sign,
Of another moon’s sojourn ending,
And the start of Apollo’s ride,
To open the blooms of flowers so fine.

From the sea a rush of Poseidon’s breath,
Gently swaying pines of evergreen,
Stirring the reeds of the awakening marsh,
A rush of salt to lift the spirit afresh.

Slowly through the starlight we glide,
Upon terra firma we hitch a ride,
To travel the winds of a solar path,
Is to ensure we spring anew from winter’s wrath.