SYMPHONY OF SPRING

It all begins with a subtle wisp
of something in the air,
the days have lost their crispness
new buds are bursting everywhere.

Birds in their Spring regalia
joyfully sing o’er hill and dale,
praising God for all the splendor
that comes always without fail.

The sun in ever increasing strength
coaxes grass and bulbs to rise,
from the ever warming earth
reaching upward to the sky.

The flies between the window panes
commence to stagger on their feet,
and the chorus of the frogs
with songs, lull me into sleep.

The geese all fly in perfect vees
so all of us can see,
they’ve made it to another Spring
their pattern one of victory.

The cleanness of the Springtime air
enters windows, fills each room,
with something money cannot buy
a drop of God’s perfume.

Margaret Rose Larrivee
May 1, 1993