Just over the ridge
reside my dreams of Spring.
Leafy trees and blooming things;
the sun’s warm embrace, kisses on my face.
Four fallow fields full of snow
hold their place on the mountain side
patiently waiting for Spring to arrive.
scent the air
as they search for Spring.
The days grow shorter, the land lays dormant.
Rest is essential to creation.
Winter will gestate Spring.
Your seed dazzle like ripened fruit
but your delicious bounty will be blossoms.
A feast for the eyes come spring.
The babies have feathered and flown.
It is time to wing to the South.
Your house holds the echo of your song,
and awaits your return in the spring.