Spring In Yorkshire Poem by Victoria Hardy

Walking among the gloomy morning,
I hear birds resume their singing
Towards the dawn
Taken away by images of nature

As I walk up the hill
I feel with every step on the soil;
An ease, a comfort, an assurance
That I find myself.

The silence…
For the sight speaks itself
In all its glory over the moors
And in light or shade…

Isn't it strange
We could be saved or ruined
By nature; the only visible legacy
Of God; the mysterious, the beautiful

The hills stand still
The sun rises behind
When will I see you to admire
To breathe and to get lost.