Two months he swam,
Up through the well,
His scales flashing in the dark.

Twisting, turning,
Swimming, soaring,
Through the Veil of Worlds.

Into the light,
He pokes his head,
Sun flashing of his scales.

Reborn at least,
After Winter's grave,
Reborn from down below.

Two months ago,
He heard the call,
His Bride invoked his name.

And now he rises,
From the grave,
To live and love again.

Heat of sun,
In Spring's cold wind,
Coiled on a rock.

Prepare he does,
For May's fine feast,
And Marriage to his Bride.