Hail, lady Moon, at midwinter’s passing:
Breeze is frigid, and gale-winds do cut cold.
Jackdaw falls silent at what robin told,
of branches black with starlings amassing.
Now many ponds are well below freezing,
and every thicket has secrets to hold,
writ in blood and fur, of predators bold,
like owl and cat, their prey swiftly seizing.
Broad clouds of sparrows like incense arise,
enthroning earth and sky on Nature’s praise.
as one flock becomes two, with change of face.
A fool sees only death, but well the wise
see life begin anew beneath your rays—
even winter’s law knows mercy and grace.
