The Winter Veil Subsides
The frost still clings to hollows deep,
Where shadows stretch in iron gray,
Yet waking from a frozen sleep,
The world begins to turn away.
A single blade of emerald light
Pierces the crust of hardened snow,
Brave herald of the coming bright,
Where hidden, rushing waters flow.
The winter’s veil is wearing thin,
A tattered shroud of mist and sigh,
As golden warmth begins to win
And paint the edges of the sky.
Each shivering branch and rooted stem
Prepares to shed its coat of white,
To wear the dew—a budding gem—
And step into the morning light.
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