After the rain

The clouds were grey and cheerless,
But my soul sensed spring was nigh.
We wandered through the muddied lanes
Beneath the leaden sky.

The dykes were filled with water
From endless days of rain;
Each field was suddenly a lake,
Where should be sprouting grain.

The hedgerows, bare and brittle,
Spoke of the end of things,
Yet somewhere wildlife rustled -
A glimpse of flitting wings.

The green blades pushing through the mud
Show spring is on its way,
And skylarks singing overhead
Just brighten up our day.

A startled wren, a pigeon
Flapping suddenly away;
The blackbird shouts its warning
To keep us both at bay.

Surrounded now by unseen things,
We continue with our walk.
With senses so alerted,
There is no need to talk.

With weary feet we make our way
Home, past branches budding new,
Knowing that soon our eyes will see
A very different view.

All too soon, we turn the bend
And concrete meets our feet.
Our walk is over, we must return
To our semi in our street.

And so another week will pass
In concrete, brick and steel,
Till Sunday comes and we, at last,
Can embrace, once more, what's real.