Spring hopes eternal,
Buried in a frozen waste.
In the heart of hearts
Hope springs eternal -
A bud blossoming in a field of ice
seems to wither before its time
unlikely, unfriended, accused of every crime.
The birds are singing terribly afar
In the lost lands
And all the world is teaching stars to dance
But you and I -
We were promised - weren't we? -
the end of winter's bitter romance.
This poem originally appeared in SEASONS OF THE MOON for Shevat 5758.
Written by Rabbi Yaakov Asher Sinclair.
General Editor: Rabbi Moshe Newman.
HTML Design: Michael B. Treblow
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