Sky so blue, filmy clouds a curtain parting here,
Air a crisp delight, tinged with promises clear;
Morning heralds perched on branches of the trees,
Sweet songs of spring advance on the breeze.
The garden swells with buds, then exclaims in blooms,
Filling all of nature’s cathedral rooms,
But a mightier symphony plays on the ear,
Inviting seekers in faith to draw near.
Life, a miracle beyond understanding,
Reality our senses now commanding;
We thank our Creator this fine Spring morn,
Receiving His love, our weary souls reborn.
In each season God beckons to us anew
To cast aside doubts, receive what is true,
And join with all of nature together to sing,
Thus give to Him our thanks for Spring.
By Elaine Hardt ©2010