The golden light

The winter’s chill has finally ceased,
A velvet warmth is now released.
The world wakes up in vibrant green,
The fairest, freshest, tranquil scene.

Small emerald buds on branches high,
Are brushing soft against the blue sky.
The tulips lift their heads of red,
Awakening from their earthy bed.

A gentle breeze begins to play,
To welcome in this lovely day.
With fragrances of blossoms sweet,
And grass that’s soft beneath our feet.

The birds are singing, light and free,
A harmonious, bright melody.
The sun-kissed morning shines so fair,
With spring’s promise in the air.

The golden light begins to pour,
Through every open window, door.
The brook that slept in icy chains,
Now dances through the wooded lanes.

The lilac breathes its purple mist,
By every wandering honey-bee kissed.
And spirits, once in winter's keep,
Now rouse from their long, quiet sleep.

For every leaf and every wing,
Is caught within the pulse of spring.
A thousand colors, bold and new,
Are washing out the winter’s hue.

A perfect sky of robin’s egg,
Where gold and blue together beguile.
The hours stretch out, serene and bright,
In pools of honeyed, liquid light. 

Each moment is a gift to hold,
In petals white and centers gold.
There is no shadow, ghost, or grey,
To mar this beautiful, blooming day.