Late March
A poem. "If we could weather love’s fragility..."
The Enthusiast is a reader-supported publication. If you enjoy what you’re reading here, why not subscribe? You’ll enjoy free articles, join a community of defiant praise, and get access to recommendations, playlists, and invigorating chats.
If this were quiet, festive contemplation
Of something at the earth’s foundation.
If this ring of oaks and tulip poplars
Were a place of spirit over waters:
A brown puddle where two cardinals
Drink, their orange-red beaks bright as embers
That plunge, rise, fly, are fanned instead of quenched.
If spring could arrive on the back of a finch.
If these woods were all alight with that fire.
Contemplate: “In the temple together.”
If we could weather love’s fragility.
Sit in this temple. Wait for the augury.
You might also like:
Love The Enthusiast, but can’t commit to a full subscription? Click this button to leave us a one-time tip!
Did you know that if you share this article, you can earn free content through our leaderboard program? Spread the word and earn good things: it’s a win-win.