Tredding softly,
the old familiar path,
hard barren ground,
this frozen desolation
where once was such warm passion
amongst the wildflowers,
now wistfully dreaming of days
when hearts sang with vibrant notes
as love plucked the strings of our hearts.
There is a blanket of spring
hidden here somewhere under
this bleak fallow ground.
If I can find my way,
maybe tears and prayers
will thaw out frozen dreams
to bloom new fields.
