March 20, according to the calendar, is the first day of Spring. We may not yet experience the reality of warmer weather, especially those of us who live in the north.
Most of us enjoyed winter for awhile, and some of us bemoaned that this winter we had a taste of thaw and then “second winter” came. By now, though, even those who love winter activities are yearning for a change in weather.
So today I offer a poem to encourage you. With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore (‘Twas the Night Before Christmas), here is ‘Twas the Day Before Spring’ by me, who longs for warm sunny days.
‘Twas the day before Spring the calendar said,
yet the ground was still covered with snow, though I’d pled
with God for bright sun and a warm wind to blow
the remnants of winter away, so below
the white blanket my yard could begin to wake up,
to stretch forth green shoots, the flow’rs could erupt.
I put on my toque and my warm woolen mittens,
my jacket and scarf – dressed snug as a kitten,
and I ventured outside to the front garden plot
to see if my prayers had been answered, or not.
The birds saw me coming and scolded me proper
for stepping outside with no seeds to offer.
For they too were hungry for fresh fruit of summer;
they were feeling the call of love for another.
Scolds changed to song as their attention was moved
from me to a rustling – a deer, pawing hooves,
was digging through snow at the edge of the garden,
not seeming to mind I was not too far from him.
He pawed and then nosed in the ground by his feet.
When he lifted his head he’d started to eat!
He’d found my first crocus just beginning to sprout
And blithely was chewing away, without doubt
enjoying the taste of the first sign of Spring
before it could even be seen. What a thing
to behold in my yard on that cold winter day!
But surely it meant Spring was soon on the way.
So I stepped back inside to the warmth of my kitchen
humming a tune and planning for when
the snow would be gone, ground would be thawed,
and I could be digging outside in my yard.
*photos courtesy of Pixabay.com