Do you know what I was, how I lived?  You know
what despair is; then
winter should have meaning for you.

I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me. I didn't expect
to waken again, to feel
in damp earth my body
able to respond again, remembering
after so long how to open again
in the cold light
of earliest spring--

afraid, yes, but among you again
crying yes risk joy

in the raw wind of the new world.

The wind whispered to the trees
Who sent messages in fallen leaves

The bluebell rang out the alarm
And the rabbits burrowed out of harm

The birds carried the message on a wing
Then the forest fell asleep until the spring