When all Creation came to be
 And time beget its stride,
A universal time of rest
 Was deemed and set aside.

For those who toil upon the earth
 A seventh share is fine,
But nature needs a deeper sleep 
 To grant its grand design.

One single season of the year
 Creation slows its ways
Allowing players, large and small,
 To rest for brighter days.

The flowers slumber side by side
 Beneath the falling snow,
And seedlings gather up their strength
 Until their time to grow.

The empty trees with branches laced
 Loom dark against the sky
And wait for whispers in the spring
 That budding time is nigh.

Beneath the ice upon the lake
 Fish swim with weary eyes
And bullfrogs buried to their chins
 Dream deep of dragonflies.

Skunks and possums, bats and bears
 Withdraw to lairs they chose―
The nooks and crannies of the woods
 In which they might repose.

But once the winter runs its course,
 A miracle occurs―
The flowers bloom, a robin sings,
 And all Creation stirs.

Behold! Another year unfurls
 As life is born anew
When Earth shakes off its winter sleep
 To make its spring debut.