The rains have come again
Across the meadow, they fall –
The cries of time hears not,
“Sounds of winter are gone!”
And yet, sad is this heart,
The mountaintops are capped with snow,
But the valleys lay in wait . . .
As the flowers begin to bloom!
The rains have come again,
And what was dormant is now awake –
Something about the smell of spring
That brings joy to one’s heart!
And then we sing a tune . . .
Spring, the season of opportune.
Epaphroditus© March 27, 2024
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