In the depths of winter’s snowy haze
I have seen icicles spangle encrusted faces
Diamond-like; and across the sheet-white places
Like a lost trumpet call, as a sunbeam summons day

I have lain beneath the bows of Apple Tree
Watched wasps on their busy way
Marked each call they made
Lived a life easy and free.

I have sat and felt respond
Each passing moment a changing ecstasy
Felt the energy pass up my spine and beyond
Into the Crown of Stars, a spiralling galaxy

Copyright © Christopher J. Hudson (1994)