And will there still be singing
And will there still be singing in the dawn
When the wind frets and scythes through threadbare trees,
When ice has glazed over both path and lawn,
And the hymns of last summer gasp and freeze?
Yes, the fraying threads of a piping song
Will still be heard from branch and ivy wall,
From hearts so frail but still so fiercely strong,
Warm sparks that flicker with uneven call.
There will still be singing I promise you
A victory song after frozen night,
Though the tunes are held by those very few,
Who cling on until the warming light.
Can you hear them, in one courageous voice,
Sing of returning spring? They have no choice.
© James Nash 2011