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The frozen ground begins to breathe,
a tender voice beneath the leaves.
The sky is painted soft and wide,
a fleeting promise I can’t hide.
The echoes melt, the colors rise,
a thousand sparks before my eyes.
The silence breaks, the day is near,
the sound of hope is all I hear.
This is the proof of spring,
the flowers start to sing.
A season born anew,
a promise shining through.
Even on the longest road,
light will find its way to show.
This is the proof of spring,
forever blossoming.
