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I love daffodils. I love Narcissus when he bends his head. I can hardly keep March and spring and Sunday and daffodils Out of my rhyme of song. Do you know anything about the spring When it comes again? God knows about it while winter is lasting. Flowers bring him power in the spring, And birds bring it, and children. He is sometimes sad and alone Up there in the sky trying to keep his worlds happy. I bring him songs When he is in his sadness, and weary. I tell him how I used to wander out To study stars and the moon he made, And flowers in the dark of the wood. I keep reminding him about his flowers he has forgotten, And that snowdrops are up. What can I say to make him listen? "God," I say, "Don't you care! Nobody must be sad or sorry In the spring-time of flowers." |