How do the daffodils know it is time
To rise again in God’s design?
Before the threat of frost is done,
They reach for the sky, one by one.

There is no guarantee it’s spring,
Yet deep inside there’s a remembering.
A promise was made for life so new,
A reincarnation of brilliant hue.

The birth of life that once was dead,
Buried beneath a grassy bed,
Springs forth with hope, again to part
Beauty upon the human heart.

Perhaps, we, too, like flowers in spring,
Will have a time of remembering.
A second chance to get it right,
Brilliantly colored for God’s delight.

©Lynnette Schuepbach, April 11, 1993