when we are lost in rapture at the sight
of the spring flowers at last fully blown
we are then healed down to the very bone
of the last vestiges of winter's blight
so too when we have passed beyond the night
into another domain of the known
where once again we cease to be alone
we can be certain that the world is right
the simple magics are the ones most true
not to feel terror at the change of time
yet to be awed that life returns again
in all those places that the sun makes new
so we rejoice in the slow upward climb
and let our bodies cast away their pain