Father of the blossoms

Heed my call.

Brush away the remnants of morning-frost

Left over from the glacial fingers of the sharp Soldier

And come alive once again.

Raise the starved sprouts and beckon the rain to your being.

Stretch your paternal branches towards the sun once again

After your long rest.

Become reborn again

From the ashes of the eternal chill christened Winter.

Gentle storms and cloudy skies

Start the steady path for regrowth.

Swirl your elusive mist as the dawn emerges each morning

Stretching over the endless meadows of your Domain.

Let the mist turn to clouds and then clouds to rain

Rejuvenating the earth beneath your well-worn feet.

Father Spring heed my call

Start our cycle of life again.