How Much Longer?

The snow still falls slowly,

The world is dead under a blanket of white.

It is beautiful,

But it is cold.

How much longer till the sun comes out?

Till the grip of winter eases off,

Till the bitter, hard edges thaw,

And the cold melts?

How much longer till the trees bud?

Till the air hints of warmth,

And blows in its breeze a message of growth?

Till the ground softens, the grip of frost easing?

How much longer till all around is green?

Till we won't depend on our artificial lights,

Made in imitation of the Great Light of the sky?

Till we can dwell in the sun's warmth all day?

How much longer before the green springs up from the wet ground?

And all around we hear the melody of drip-drip.

Till the heart is lightened by gladder tidings,

And the sun is there to greet us as we wake?

Oh how much longer till we see more then an illustration of life after death!