Winter Slumber

 This post is a revision of an earlier poem and is in honor of the 8 inches of snow we received yesterday.

Tread softly on the sleeping ground
where roots and rhizomes
grow in secret
unimpaired 
beneath the snow
and corms and pupae
snuggly rest
and wait 
until 
the appointed time
to wake
and stretch
upward
through softening soil
towards
the light.

Attend gently to sleeping dreams
where hopes and wishes
grow in secret
unimpaired
beneath awareness
and inspiration
safely rests
and waits
until the appointed 
time
to wake
and stretch
unbound
through softening resistance
towards
the light.

The Brave Ones

It is yet too cold for gardening
or the turning of the soil 
or planting the seeds that are readily at hand
on my kitchen counter.
The earth's surface is still
encrusted with crystallized shards of ice
that will leave their tiny footprints
as they evaporate or melt into the ground
in a few hours.

The hellebores are pouting after a night
well below freezing 
and the golden ragwort's leaves are
adorned with frozen lace,
as if dressed for a ball.

But the intrepid ones, those 
early blooming bulbs,
brave botanical souls who laughingly
defy late winter and raise their
faces to the dawn,
they impart the courage I need
to trust that winter is receding and
warmth will come.

Later today, when the sun has
warmed the land, 
I will plant peas.