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 ...