In this quiet light

the morning comes

slow and calm

deep greens

bring a sheen of spring

covering the fields and hills and banks

I give thanks

for blade and blossom

the hope and comfort of fresh beginnings

budding branches

pry loose

the dying grip of winter

there is in the stubborn shoot

a determination

rooted in life

knowing that the cold

cannot keep back forever

that holy promise

of seeds and sowing

of growing and harvest

that even the least of earth

shall have their season

H. Arnett

4/26/11