Soft rains do fall
And with them, peace.
The ground, once hard
Now finds release
From winter’s grip
And stony cold.
The sun’s bright warmth,
An orb of gold,
Now rises high
And resurrects
From dormant seed
To stem erect.
And gath’ring strength
A bud appears
Tight knit within
The passing years
Until this time:
It’s meant to be.
Unfold and bloom
So all can see
The Truth in flow’r.
He makes it grow.
The seasons shift:
Eternal flow.