When winter-winds blow harsh and cold
with wild and angry cries
and sweep the withered autumn leaves
into storm-clouded skies
and drifted snow lies high and deep
across each frozen field,
anticipation of the spring
becomes our strength and shield.
As bitterness of blizzard's breath
is lost in budding trees,
the healing in love's gentleness
will ease life's agonies:
like sunlight arching through the mists
that hide the meadow's flowers,
the promises in hope and faith
are rainbows in dark hours.
~ Eugene G.E. Botelho
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