As the Encircling Hills draw up their white skirts
Winter ends in Tumlauden
The green grasses and forests sparkle
As the valley drinks the mountain's tears
And feeds the air with potential
By the fallen trees, saplings climb
Reaching tenatively toward the Sun
Their fingers unfold
The Birth of Flowers has begun
Celebration of Spring
Where children revel in the gardens of Gondolin
All are glad of heart
To see the rebirth of the seasons
And feel the return of nature's kindness
Sweet rain falls on upturned faces
Laughing and dancing as the blossoms unfold
Singing like birds, more natural than speech
The little ones run on the sward
Who can spurn their joy?
Sitting in a grove where my Lord has bid me remain
He watches with me, and laughs with his eyes
A great bush of leafy finery has he introduced
But no bloom or petals had it once produced
Until after the Sun has climbed and then reclined
And Isil assends to make silver the grass
Then before my shaking eyes do the lilies now yawn
He says, "They only bloom in the night. In the daylight they twist their petals shut, and wait until the cool shade to open, perchance to catch a drop of dew."
"They are lovely! But who ever heard of a flower that shuns the light? It must be magic!"I lean down to brush the pale green petals against my face, smelling the delicate scent.
"No, just a beautiful difference."