Secret snows lulled the latent landscape,
A hush of ice, like frosted silver quartz,
Grew gently over the lake, sealing it safely,
While silent evergreens watched, and waited,
Because they knew, and they believed.
In a longer minute, warming winds whispered
Across this virginal canvas, painting strokes of green,
Smidges and smudges of tender shoots and blades,
Into a laced latticework, upon its expectant shores.
Because they knew, and they also believed.
At once, molten, crystal rivulets began to weave and weft,
Down slumbering white-capped peaks,
Tumbling and crashing into the mighty, mother Hudson.
The North Country awakened to its living Spring, afresh,
Because it knew, and always believed.