Deceitful winter lets the sunshine in.
I smell the earth and see a snowdrop lone
Yet what seems pleasant is, in truth, a sin.
In minute ways the lengthening day begins.
The virtuous hope the true way will be shown
Deceitful winter lets the sunshine in.
At least the darkness hid what is within
For we each bury shadow under stone
Then what was pleasant turns to torment grim.
The world is other, we live on its skin.
With unfulfilled desires, we infant moan.
Deceitful winter lets the sunshine in.
We blame gods and men, for grace is thin.
Yet must we learn to trust the great unknown?
Then all that’s pleasant feels no longer grim.
Perceptions change as we move towards our home
Where all that’s wicked shall be overthown.
Deceitful winter let this sunshine in.
What seems bad is good, and good’s no sin.
