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Spring in Liora's Valley
It was as if someone had filled the light with blossoms.
The wind carried songs that made even the stones listen,
and the trees, silent and bare just a few nights ago,
whispered again in their green breath.
In front of the small house with the painted window frames,
the first sunlight trembled like a promise over the stream.
Dragonflies flickered through the morning,
and the soft rippling of memories sounded from the fountain.
On the bridge stood a child with open hands –
as if wanting to grasp the whole world,
overflowing with buds and colors.
Here, in Liora's Valley, spring does not begin on the calendar, but with the first birdcall, which reminds the heart how to marvel again.
