Knowing the autumn and your need--
I, too, am a brown leaf clinging--
I would bring you April seed
In new green phrases with a bluebird singing.
I know the dark of your grief, your yearning,
Knowing your April and June are gone;
Yet there is peace in the slow returning ...
"Dust to dust" ... but preludes Dawn.
I would bring you resurgent newness:
A crocus venturing a greening slope,
A white gull wheeling against the blueness,
A lily-bloom of unconquerable hope--
Yet will a blown leaf, part of earth,
Feel the tremor of spring's rebirth.
