Nature's God

When buds are red and branches bare
The mornings crisp, but turning fair,
A hint of frost is in the air,
But melts against the sun.

The lake below looks clean and calm,
The ducks enfolded in her arms,
Swim peacefully and safe from harm.
I guess somehow they know.

That winter's reign has run its course.
It cedes its throne to spring. Its source,
The cold, has lost its sting and force.
We hunker down no more.

The circle's cycle sings a song
Our rhythms rhyme and sing along.
Our senses sense it can't be wrong.
The system sends a sign.

So seasons change, and all is well,
And winter has its tale to tell
I contemplate alone and dwell
On never-changing years.
On never-changing years.
On never-changing, ever-changing years.

So very beautiful. The imagery is very good. I could read it over and over. Thank you.