When Winter Sang

I heard the song, "Lift up, lift up

Your eyes! For beauty leaves the clod.

Oh, hush! Be still! A daffodil

Within its golden chalice-cup

Declares the artistry of God."

Within a clearing in a wood

I learned His ways beside a brook.

All summer long I heard the song

And, listening, I understood--

The thrush, the leaves, the wind, my book.

I heard the song when fruited lands

Bestowed fulfillment's accolade.

In autumn sun the willows spun

The gold of faith and I touched hands

With God ... and waited unafraid ...