Not Bloody Moping
The birds raise hymns to greying dawn,
The first shoots peek from fields of snow,
The beasts awake from winter sleep,
And I find peace in this new home.
The world, it lives and learns and grows,
While clocks tick out their patient path
And old wounds long begun to heal
Turn a sob back to a laugh.
May peace remain here, may joy grow,
This land and hope be close as kin
In this, my haven, ease be brought
As winter ever heralds spring.
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