Thursday Poem - Return

Through the weeks of deep snow
we walked above the ground
on fallen sky, as though we did
not come of root and leaf, as though
we had only air and weather
for our difficult home
But now
as March warms, and the rivulets
run like birdsong on the slopes,
and the branches of light sing in the hills,
slowly we return to earth.

Wendell Berry

The red oak tree at the foot of the garden behind the little blue house in the village keeps its leaves all winter long, and in the depths of the long white season, it brings me great pleasure and much opportunity for thought.

There is a weekly haiku offering here.