Snowdrop

One wind through the snowy wood— As dark cracks bleed their warmth, Will I emerge converted?
Come a moment of reverent silence, To tread upon a white hex, Where frost pours being back into stone; Into quiet this seed wells!

Even the distant mountains lift, Aglow beneath torn slashes, Breath breathing emerges anew, Where love has waited in fallen prayer.
Dare find joy in that movement, Flutter through the shining expanse, As earth spreads its fragile breast, At dawn glowing and thinking;
I remember the light of other forms, The inevitable back reached through each spot To hold pattern on depth—free us by skin.

But here a poverty has wandered out, In pale fingers bridging life, Stretching me deceased or dreaming and gone— Again wrapped in the thawed face of air, The snowfall blushed light holds me close, Under the snowdrop ground-up or fallen I barely whisper, joy like anxious wings.

• Ted Hughes