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Spring Dusk
Still, cool colors, drifting on the spring skies,
Dew kissed promises on the gentlest morns,
Behind floods, bursts of pulsing blooms will rise,
Even roses have their portion of thorns.
Puffing crooning’s from the birds in soft song,
Comforting souls with their crisp verse, their light.
With His wilderness world, God is not wrong.
Shelters with love that glistens through the night.
Spring, in silence, reminds souls to believe,
Winds kindle a desire to meet the new,
Even though winter’s end will surely grieve,
Spring brings joy that our spirits always knew.
It is in spring, where we meet our intent.
Under spring’s dying dusk, we’ll be content!
Copyright ©
Regina Mcintosh
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