It’s late February and

The birds are coming home.

Daylight is longer

And the breezes carry the scent

Of a vague

Hope

Of Spring.

Tempers flare with flames born

Of too many long nights,

Dark days,

Bitter winds.

And now we can only

Hope

For Spring.

Holy Spirit,

Quench our fires of mistrust and restlessness

With your waters of

Patience and gentleness

And grow our

Hope

Of the new life

Of Spring.

Amen.