Crocus

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There will come another dawn
after this dark night.
Crocuses will rise
from winter's snows,
and velvet buds will turn to blossoms
out of branches bare and cold.

When this life is done
we, too, will step into
anoter dawn.
For who can say
there is no more
to life, to love, to joy
when a crocus knows
its way through snow?

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