The landscape of winter, a canvas anew
A porcelain sky, yet to be washed blue

There it comes, the first drop of wet dew
Bringing upon the new spring

Swashes of tulips; gold, tangerine
Soft dabs of peony; a candy floss dream

Butterflies in bold strokes, off to great heights
Feathers of cygnets bathed in new light

Dawn and dusk, showers and sun
The aspects of spring come together as one

The blank, plain white canvas no longer deprived
But revived by spring, thus full of new life

Seasons go by, and the joy of life wilts
But spring comes again and what died is rebuilt

While the canvas is old and is smudged by our marks
Life perseveres and once more embarks

To paint greater joy in countless fresh sparks
That, my friends, is the new spring