From under hard and frozen earth —
A mystery of might
Pushing forth in verdant mirth and swaying with delight

From under leaves forsaken
By Sunday chores undone
A miracle in the making,
A chuckle in the sun.

From under boughs still sleeping
Not yet dressed for play
The crocus tilts its sprightly head
And seems to me to say:

It’s time for life and laughter
It’s time again to sing.
Through all the cold and darkness
After winter, must come spring.