An Old Familiar Song

I stepped outside the other day
and on the wind, a voice did say-
"I'm coming soon- do not despair.
I travel quickly on the air."

I stopped and listened even more
To a voice beyond that distant shore
that whispered like a long lost friend-
across the cruel and cutting wind.

I tuned my ears, but barely heard-
The sweet promises in every word.
Then all at once, I heard her sing-
and without a doubt, the song was Spring.

Her voice was lost by a gusty blow
and muffled by a fluff of snow-
And nearly stopped before the gate-
But I screamed to her-"Yes! I will wait!"

An icy chill ran up my spine
and I was lost again in Winter time-
but even though I could not hear-
I know my Spring is somewhere near.

The song grew quiet on cloudy skies
As I watched for her with anxious eyes
My hope. My Spring. My faithful friend.
That never fails to sing again.

I cannot always hear her now-
Amid naked trees and silent plow,
but her song will push through Winter's wall
And surround me with it's pleasant call.

I huddle near the window frame-
and recite her sweet and solemn name.
"Spring, Spring- she comes again!
My ever faithful, loving friend!"