Always The Spring

Always The Spring

Life has its seasons - its bright summer days,
Its autumns made poignant with memories' haze,
Its cold, lonely winters when bitter winds blow -
But always the crocus of Hope in the snow.

Always the day when the morning breaks through
And clouds break away to a skyful of blue.
Life has its seasons - its sun and its rain,
Its winter - but always the springtime again.

by Helen Lowrie Marshall