Despite the month’s cold and rain, the daffodils have opened.
They stand atop the hill along the roadside, greeting passersby.
To me, they look like angels, their white wings spread wide,
their bright trumpets sending songs of unbridled cheer.
“We’re alive! We’re alive! And you’re alive, too!
The sun is shining; the sky is blue. The happy birds sing
from high in the tree. It’s spring, dear ones. Be glad with me.”