Transcendental Sonnet #1296:
Through Eyes Once Dead Dawn's First Faint Rays

Do I force the spring
By imagining
These leaflets of the lightest brightest green
And do my eyes deceive me?

They appear in this winter which has been
The daily bread of these my famine days
Of sorrow which now grieve me
Which I thought were forever and always

But death now yields to life winter to spring
If my heart will believe me
Accept that I am not imagining
And dare to hope that there is hope for me

I see these signs of life and hungrily
Devour through eyes once dead dawn's first faint rays

+Steven Curtis Lance



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