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The Tune of Spring

For the sleepy
      bugs and fliers
There comes
      a time:
After winter’s sleep
      is over,
Sprouts are
      up and spry.
Buds are swelling,
      juices flow,
Gone is
      the wintry gloom…
And before you
      even know it —
Gardens are
      abloom!
Next the air
      fills with sounds,
With the chirpy
      buzz —
There comes
      a light-winged chorus
In the lands
      of grass.
Just like me:
      the shell’s discarded,
A dainty moth
      is born,
I shall set forth
      on my journey —
to a well-known
      door.
I would fly
      around your house —
Hark
      the heartful call!
And I’d heave a sigh,
      half-smiling —
There…
      after all.