The ultimate wisdom which deals with beginnings, remains locked in a seed. There it lies, the simplest fact of the universe and at the same time the one which calls faith rather than reason.

I go down to the edge of the sea. How everything shines in the morning light! The cusp of the whelk, the broken cupboard of the clam, the opened, blue mussels.

You break a cookie in half like bread And this sharing is what we both now need. That which breaks into crumbs are memories. Your gray hair cut short and you ask if I notice.

Oh plunge me deep in love—put out My senses, leave me deaf and blind, Swept by the tempest of your love, A taper in a rushing wind.

Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man’s ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude.

Still lie the sheltering snows, undimmed and white; And reigns the winter’s pregnant silence still; No sign of spring, save that the catkins fill, And willow stems grow daily red and bright.

The snow-dust falls, The otter crawls, The partridge calls, Far in the wood. The traveller dreams, The tree-ice gleams, The blue-jay screams In angry mood.

Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

Little January Tapped at my door today. And said, “Put on your winter wraps, And come outdoors to play.” Little January Is always full of fun. Until the set of sun.

Feeling the earth tilt Toward the light, Right then and there. I know new life will arise — Water will flow, Crops will grow, I know I’ll be right again.

We watch the red birds in the morning We hope for the quiet daytime together The year turns into air But we are together in the whole night With the sun still going away And the year Coming back.

I heard a bird sing In the dark of December A magical thing And sweet to remember. We are nearer to Spring Than we were in September.

So now is come our joyful feast, Let every man be jolly; Each room with ivy leaves is dressed, And every post with holly.

Clear the decks! Clear the tracks! You’ve got nothing to do but relax. Blow a kiss. Take a bow. Honey, everything’s coming up roses!

Yet a few sunny days, in which the bee Shall murmur by the hedge that skirts the way, The cricket chirp upon the russet lea, And man delight to linger in thy ray.

From the forest’s eaves The leaves descend. Bright flakes of red Ride winter’s breath And pile kickin’ high.

I feel the earth, rolling beneath as we face out into the endlessness we usually ignore. Past the evanescent meteors, infinity pulls hard.

With night coming early, And dawn coming late, And ice in the bucket And frost by the gate. The fires burn And the kettles sing, And earth sinks to rest Until next spring.

I spot the hills With yellow balls in autumn. I light the prairie cornfields Orange and tawny gold clusters And I am called pumpkins.

Courage to me means standing up against injustice, Or at least finding the strength to do something Your character or the outside world would rather you didn’t do.