Come Through the Gate

Spring waits . . . unfurling

Fragrant daffodils to preen

In the morning sun . . .

Old crooked pear tree

Shimmers pearly blossoms. . .

Hums a tune of bees. . .

And new blooms proclaim

Victory on a backdrop

Of Winter's leavings.

After a Drought

River running high . . .
Mist floating on the mountain . . .
Long dry, the earth drinks deep.

Bare limbs all bejeweled,
Nature celebrates -- donning
Liquid finery.

Tiny waterfalls,
Tumbling riverwards,
Sing redemption songs.