SYMPHONY

My spirit was benumbed by winter's chill,
with glacial pendants hanging round my soul;
no greening boughs with which my eyes to fill,
no flowered paths along the way to stroll.

Its brumal breath found home within my breast
and blew against the countenance of hope;
it lingered long to rob me of my zest;
I languished low and lay abed to mope.

I heard the tiptoe of a gentle spring,
like steps upon a hidden carpet path,
and soon all nature lent her voice to sing
a grand finale to harsh winter's wrath.

At last the dreary days that fettered me
were vanquished by spring's lilting symphony.

Copyright © 2000 Ruth Gillis

Previously published in the Summer 2000 issue of Bell's Letters