The Earth

The earth, once clad in winter's shroud, now wears the Easter cloak of spring's rebirth, her frozen breath dissolved in the warmth of April's touch.

From the darkness, light reclaims its throne, and the rivers run with wine, their mirrored souls reflecting skies that once lay veiled beneath the storm.

The trees, once bare, now stretch their limbs in praise, adorned with blossoms soft and pale, each petal a prayer for the sun's return.

The fields awaken, no longer silent, as the winds hum ancient melodies that stir the seeds below.

Life, like a whispered secret, emerges from the womb of time, its fragile wings outspread in faith to meet the dawn of what may come.