When the senses come back in the morning,
the nose is a mouth full of spring:
the mouth is an earful of birdsong;
the eyes are lips on the camomile lawn;
the ear is an eye of calm blue sky.
When the broken heart begins to mind,
the heart is a bird with a tender wing,
the tears are pear blossom blossoming,
the shaken love grows green shining leaves,
the throat doesn’t close, it is opening
like a long necked swan in the morning,
like the sea and the river meeting,
like the huge heron’s soaring wings:
I sat up with my pale face in my hands
And all of a sudden it was spring.
This lovely poem was read by Mel at our Virtual Burns’ Night last week, and I thought everybody should have a chance to share it.