With the tenderness of a kiss
She sweeps down and shakes the sleeping
Earth to receive her warmth
And open to her fullness.
She knows much, and cares little
For the cold bleakness of yesterday.
Blessing everything with sure and
Certain change is her intention.
She cannot change the path before her,
Nor alter the path behind.
Into the last of winter she throws
The warmth of her very soul.
She touches the frozen hillsides,
And breathes away the snow.
But for all the good she does,
Summer always makes her go.
Nolan L. Julian
1973