Up in the heavens,
I saw the swan of spring in silent flight,
Bathed in the magic of moonbeams.
Its mighty wings with feathers outstretched
Reaching to touch our northern stars,
With Orion guarding nearby
And the glittering crown of Cassiopeia in sight.
Undeterred, the swan continued on its journey
Through the dark midnight blue skies,
Chasing the cold breath of winter away.
Certain that with each pump if its wings
The earth will warm again and
Turn aglow with shades of green.
Such it is in the northern March skies.
We search for signs of winters descent
And the first flight north to spring.
