Wednesday, April 1, 2009

The Crocus by Harriet E. H. King

Out of the frozen earth below,

Out of the melting of the snow,

No flower, but a film, I push to light;

No stem, no bud-yet I have burst

The bars of winter, I am the first

O Sun, to greet thee out of the night!

Deep in the warm sleep underground

Life is still, and the peace profound:

Yet a beam that pierced, and a thrill that smote

Call'd me and drew me from far away;

I rose, I came, to the open day

I have won, unshelter'd, alone, remote.

1 comment:

  1. I love that. We hope to get out for a walk to stretch my back at our local botanical garden today before the rain starts again. The crocuses and snowbells are all in bloom right now. So beautiful!