A mist has flown on wings of thunder
And alighted softly over the fields-
The mountains are bathed
By a slight-felt shower of cooling rain.
They've slept long, curled under a blanket of snow
And now is the time for their awakening
From a lonely frozen sleep.
This is Nature's morning-
The wood drinks deep and sighs its drowsiness away.
The mountains groan and stretch,
For long have they been resting 'neath
The weight of the thunderheads.
All was once frosty and sharp:
But now the rain is murmuring among the treetops,
Where branches clatter and spring leaves are whispering.
Last year's flowers lay strewn, dozing
Until the wind tenderly shakes them awake.
The air is made heavy by the scent of wet earth and water,
Of snow made soft by sun on mountain crags.
The clouds press on the cliffs
Like the hands of God,
Protecting His own.