From creek’s hard bed, soft dawn appears
in skies above eroded wall.
It casts the line between the years
aslant where day’s bright rays downfall.

Now, winter-weary hearts resign
to hold ambitions incomplete.
We turn away from grand design
to homely chores in hope’s retreat.

I gather dreams in retrospect
across the seasons striving spent,
envisioning the fresh prospect
resolved in native sun’s advent.