Watching and waiting for Spring

I walked in the Greenwood today.  The wind was wild.  Bright catkin tassels tossed on hazel twigs.  The glossy holly's time has passed, her scarlet berries plundered by hungry birds in Winter's cold.

                                                                         The poet's tree


                                                       'And Winter slumbering in the open air,  
                                                     Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!'

                                                                                             SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE
                                                                                             from 'Work Without Hope'

Haiku 1

Birds fly home to roost
Fading light paints the sky red
Accented by stars.

May Hill, A Magical Place

When the Spring returns to the land I shall climb to the top of May Hill and see the world spread out before me.

Emerging From The Dark

The mirror showed an unfamiliar face
With crevices and shards of glacial ice.
Her countenance was trapped within a vice
And fixed within a glazed and secret place.
There was no hand to help revive her grace,
Or words to softly comfort or entice
The restoration of her soul to life.
Past shadows buried deep will not erase.

But time and light can resurrect the blind
And black dogs turn and drive their demons out.
The kiss of consolation will revive
And offer salve to soothe the splintered mind.
Just as the Earth will rise to greet Spring's shout,
The tortured soul may wake and yet survive.




Angela Boyden
February 2011