Un-revealed Until Its Season

It's mid-winter and our fickle weather vacillates between sub-zero wind chills and inches of snow.  Yet, when I look out of our kitchen window, I see the hope of spring.  There, I see a line of flowering ornamental shrubs, each holding spring in the buds that are forming on their limbs.  First in line is the French lilac. Farther down is an azalea, flanked by two weigelas.  I can't count the number of buds that they hold onto so dearly, for there are so many. Even the two small burning bushes look as if they're just counting the days until they can burst forth with leaves.  As I watch the scene out of our kitchen window, I am reminded of the "Hymn of Promise" by Natalie Sleeth:  "In the cold and snow of winter, there's a spring that waits to be."  These next winter weeks will be a test to our patience, but like the ornamental shrubs holding tight to their spring buds, some things are, as Ms. Sleeth wrote so beautifully, "un-revealed until its season."