Everywhere
The first bird of the year
Has sung a valentine
Tuned to the last winter star.

In cold shrill voice
The first loves of spring,
Leafless as the blooming
Of jasmine trees.

The star’s intervals
Lead in the first winds,
Open the first buds,
Hold the first pauses

That wait for hope,
Expectant of music,
Foreknowing leaves unfold,
Faithful to heart’s beat.

The green winter stars
Of thistle and scabious
Open in slow cadence
Of the tall sweet flower,

The first light of dawn
On the heart’s desolate stone
Will reveal a mountain
In a blue sky shining.

Each star is answering
Another, and the sun,
That bridegroom, kind once again,
Northward to me returning.