The unseen Wren up first thing piercingly sings ‘good morning
immortal world, today, of all days, a new beginning.’
Spinning in winter’s late snow little wren pleads for a daffodil cameo mustering a falsetto dedicated to blooming a cherry blossom tree.
Offering our inland as a vibrant canvas for extravagant radiance of creation, bartering unexpecting flower beds for aromatic beauty.
‘Blossom, bloom, blush’ – the little wren croons,
‘oh late spring I await the glittering fate of late spring.’