At Dawn's first nudge the summons rolls
'cross field and flower beds,
Through spring's chill air, and bids
new-sprouted seeds to raise their heads.
They shed their shrouds and stretch and climb
toward sky and Father Sun,
And though they fail in each attempt
to reach so high a One,
He touches them with soft caress
each leaf and flower face,
Draws each one unto Him, enfolded
in His warm embrace.
PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR,
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