Morning Mist Poem by John Rickell

Today, born in mystery
I did not see its coming
mists surround, birds silent
feeders in the trees unattended,
the cat beside the hearth.
Pigeons brave the lawn
take the bread, alert
and ready for flight
waiting for the day
when the sun will shine.
Fields, spring green,
hedges once again along
the lane white with
blackthorn flowers
daffodils and crocus yellow.

Mists invade and cold presides,
all wait the rising sun
to reassure our doubts
wash-lines limp, wet
from the night's dank air.
Through the windowpanes
I see the silent yew
and sagging willows
in subdued regret,
buds fail to swell,
winter's cruel hold
another week, 'til
Friday's first spring day
and cherry blooms once more

Now see the sun
nature's promises fulfilled!
Distant hills again to see
We should not doubt
beauty beneath the veil
revealed as we kmew it would.
Churches' steeples reach the sky
clouds and blue and pigeons.