Here is a bit of poetry that speaks to me every March when I post it on my ribbon board:
from The First Spring Day
I wonder if the sap is stirring yet,
If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate,
If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun
And crocus fires are kindling one by one;
Sing, robins, sing;
I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring...
The sap will surely quicken soon or late,
The tardiest bird will twitter to a mate;
So spring must dawn again with warmth and bloom,
Or in this world, or in the world to come;
Sing, voice of Spring,
Till I too blossom and rejoice and sing.
Christina Rossetti
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