I miss the warmth of scented air,
Like a gentle touch from the sun.
I miss the wildflowers everywhere,
As winter becomes undone.
The Earth is stuck in her sleepy state,
Wrapped in blankets of snow.
I long for the time when it comes awake,
And the sun returns with its old glow.
New buds are hiding in the trees ,
Until their time is come.
Plants are hiding in their seeds,
‘Til beckoned by the sun.
The fog lays thick on mountainsides,
And skies blush pink with dawn.
Still there’s no hint of sweet springtime,
Heaviness lingers on.
The woods have lost their sweet birdsongs,
And little creatures slumber.
The gurgling brooks have slept so long,
Silenced by November.
And quiet wonder haunt the Earth,
So heavy you can feel it,
A waiting for the new rebirth,
And Nature’s great achievement.
So I will sit by sleeping streams
And wish for songs to sing.
I’m stuck within my memories,
And homesick for the spring.