The Collected Poetry

On Spring

On the first spring of my return,

I wandered much into the wood.

Now for those days I do so yearn,

Life as spring had no great concern.

The leafy forests I understood,

They gleamed with sharp golden sunlight.

I learned the ways as best I could;

Rejoicing in the bright and good.

Spring’s long day, and short but sweet night,

Burned within me a kind of zeal.

I felt the colors brought delight,

as they in radiance rose to height.

Spring made in me a soul of steel.

The things I, a student, did learn,

From springtime’s able laws ideal,

And that was when I first could heal.