It relinquishes the hold, on peopleís dress code, and sees smiles trace a face, which had barely held a place;
And retracts wide beddings of snow, not wanting to go, the hold of the old, whose stories were told.
It releases stilled waters, frozen within, to break out refreshed, and serve once again;
And restores rivers and streams, into multiple reams, of churning, gurgling, bubbling hastenings.
It flocks the feathered, of newly found flight, to attempt the reach, of heavenís full height;
And furnishes free flowers, their own fertile room, soon a bouquet, in beautiful bloom.
It orchestrates the fields, as well as the fallows, to harvest its own, into glorious meadows;
And tender breezes travelling, finally feel fresh, from what had once chilled, both bone and its flesh.
It showers sunís light, more fully to pass, the rays that unlock, lakes coated in glass;
And shades of the gray, can no longer stay, with each anointed day, making color its way.
It hails hope in the heart, engendering a start, the bounty of which, will fill mountain and ditch.
From beginning to end, for all that depend, there is no further need, beyond Godís Spring Seed.
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