A few days of warm sunshine, and everything is unfolding from a long winter's sleep.
Fingers crossed Mother Nature is not playing a joke.
Were I to live a thousand years,
I still would know that flaming thrill,
That rush of joy when first appears
—the golden daffodil.
A thousand times my heart would sing
When purple irises unfold;
Or when forsythia's branches bring
Their dazzling showers of gold.
I could not see an almond tree
With branches all a rosy glow
But that a tide of ecstasy
Would through my being flow
Were I to see, a thousand times,
Blue scilla bells amid green grass,
I know I'd hear their fairy chimes
As I would pass.
Were I to live a thousand years
I'd never watch the nesting birds
Except through eyes bedimmed with tears,
My tongue bereft of words.
Were I to weave ten thousand lays,
Knew I a thousand songs to sing,
I still would lack the power to praise
—the miracle of Spring.
Silver Lining ~Wilhelmina Sitch 1888
