The sight of flowers, in a ring;
Music of the birds, that sing.
Now the Sun, warming the air,
Brings many colors, everywhere.
I love seeing the newness of Spring.

The evening tide, is not for me,
For it holds life's uncertainty.
I would rather run and fail
As I escape this earthly jail.

Oh dearest Mary
where are you now,
when I need you most?
Is your spirit here
or is it your ghost?

What can I say,
What can I do,
To return you
Back to you?