An affectionate spring
Is in our midst
Whirling brief
As the taunting scourge
Our relief

For the moment
We are cradled in warmth
In her passionate rays
And ever-green plunder

Her joy is our own
Toiling and raging about
Beneath swaths
Of transient blue

Yet it is but a glimpse
A morsel of days to come
A call
To resurrection’s brink