So much depends upon sky,
blue-mottled in fur muffs above
flooded fields awaiting dry
days that buffet thick winter mud
as it willfully clings
in hard lumps to all frozen ridges.
Spring's blow loosens clumps
to undo icy hold on shivering things.

So much relies upon wind,
pink-braided dawns fight cold's ache
as old nakedness withers
when warmth, in the wings, re-faces
bare twigs trembling nightly
by clothing in stages as buds open.  
Flora's warmth quietly          
dresses again what had lain frozen.

So much delights the seeing
eye as fresh life feels profound change
in new underneathness,
gripped-down grounded roots awaken
from sleep's hibernation,
while hunger for life drives movement.
As kind weather favours
much in nature depends on the sky.