In March, the winds do softly whisper,
Carrying secrets from distant realms,
The earth awakens from its slumber,
As dreams unfurl like fragile films.

The skies are painted shades of blue,
With clouds that dance in light’s embrace,
Each day brings hope, both old and new,
As winter’s chill begins to erase.

Beneath the soil, life starts to stir,
Buds and blossoms reach for the sky,
March’s breath, a gentle murmur,
That promises warmth, not goodbye.

And in this month of tender change,
Our hearts are filled with blooming dreams,
March’s magic, both vast and strange,
In every breeze and sunbeam gleams.