The Winter of the Soul

The summer has passed, the harvest is in,
The fields lie fallow and cold.
The sun shines not on the frozen ground
While the winter tightens its hold,

Bleak and desolate, the landscape lies,
Prisoner to this season of death.
Signs of life are few and fleeting
And the world seems to hold its breath.

But onto this scene of desolation, breaks
Forth a harbinger of spring.
The plucky robin with breast of red,
His song, he begins to sing:

"Arise, O world, wake up, O land.
it's time to renew the earth.
For the sun returns with the early rains
To herald in new birth.

The farmer comes with horse and plough
His furrows soon to turn.
The cold, damp earth and the seed he sows
For the warmth of the sun, will yearn."

O come, dear Jesus, come and bring
Your plough into my heart.
Break up this ground so cold and hard
And grant me a new start,

Purge me, O Lord with holy fire,
Cleanse me with heavenly rain,
Restore in me a steadfast heart
That I may walk with Thee again.