Part 9

MARCH THOUGHT

I am waiting for the flowers To come back: I am alone, But I can wait for the birds.

MORNING

There is a brook I must hear Before I go to sleep. There is a birch tree I must visit Every night of clearness. I have to do some dreaming, I have to listen a great deal, Before light comes back By a silver arrow of cloud, And I rub my eyes and say It must be morning on this hill!

SONG

A scarlet bird went sailing away through the wood . . .

It was only a mist of dream That floated by.

Bare boughs of my apple-tree, Beautiful gray arms stretched out to me, Swaying to and fro like angels' wings . . .

It was only a mist of dream That floated by.

SNOWFLAKE SONG

Snowflakes come in fleets Like ships over the sea. The moon shines down on the crusty snow: The stars make the sky sparkle like gold-fish In a glassy bowl. Bluebirds are gone now, But they left their song behind them. The moon seems to say: It is time for summer when the birds come back To pick up their lonesome songs.

SNOWSTORM

Snowflakes are dancing. They run down out of heaven. Coming home from somewhere down the long tired road They flake us sometimes The way they do the grass, And the stretch of the world. The grass-blades are crowned with snowflakes. They make me think of daisies With white frills around their necks With golden faces and green gowns; Poor little daisies, Tip-toe and shivering In the cold!

POPPY

Oh big red poppy, You look stern and sturdy, Yet you bow to the wind And sing a lullaby . . . "Sleep, little ones under my breast In the moonshine . . ." You make this lullaby, Sweet, short, Slow, beautiful, And you thank the dew for giving you a drink.

BUTTERFLY

As I walked through my garden I saw a butterfly light on a flower. His wings were pink and purple: He spoke a small word . . . It was Follow! "I cannot follow" I told him, "I have to go the opposite way."

CLOUDS

The clouds were gray all day. At last they departed And the blue diamonds shone again. I watched clouds float past and flow back Like waves across the sea, Waves that are foamy and soft, When they hear clouds calling Mother Sea, send us up your song Of hushaby!

NARCISSUS

Narcissus, I like to watch you grow When snow is shining Beyond the crystal glass. A coat of snow covers the hills far. The sun is setting; And you stretch out flowers of palest white In the pink of the sun.

LITTLE SNAIL

I saw a little snail Come down the garden walk. He wagged his head this way . . . that way . . . Like a clown in a circus. He looked from side to side As though he were from a different country. I have always said he carries his house on his back . . . To-day in the rain I saw that it was his umbrella!

CHERRIES ARE RIPE

The cherry tree is red now; Cherry tree nods his red head And calls to the sun: Let down the birds out of the sky; Send home the birds to build nests in my arms, For I am ready to feed them. There is a little girl coming for cherries too . . . (I am that little girl, I who am singing . . .) She is coming with hair flying! The butterflies will be going (says the cherry) For it is getting dusk. When it is dawn, They will be up and out with the dew, And sparkle as the dew does On the tips of tall slender green grasses Around my feet, Or on the cheeks of fruit I have ripened, Red cherries for birds And children.

A THING FORGOTTEN

White owl is not gloomy; Black bat is not sad. It is only that each has forgotten Something he used to remember: Black bat goes searching . . . searching . . . White owl says over and over Who? What? Where?

LITTLE PAPOOSE: