THIRTEEN HAZEL
Thirteen brave hazels now circumference the coppice,
fence guarded against buck-toothed rabbits who bonsaied
each burgeoning shrub just as thriving stems ripened.
Roots, subversively lurking underground, survive,
cradled by the ancient whisper of long night songs
as the dark earth snugly surrounds with moist matter.
Warmth coaxes life afresh, hears the secret word, while
long lingering sun golds the bare skin of the land,
only diminished when cloud cloth-covers the source.
Thirteen hazels stir, quicken to the earth's firm pulse,
give birth to new shoots, buds not yet unfurling at
Imbolc but with intention full for becoming.
Kaaren Whitney
Imbolc 2005
