Yes, she's no more now than a drop of snow
on a green stem- her name is now her calling.
Her mind is just a frozen melting glow
of water swollen to the point of falling,
which maybe has no meaning. There's no telling.
But what a beauty, what a mighty power
of patience kept intact is now in flower.
A verse of Snowdrop by the mighty Alice Oswald. And these little prophets telling me their spring secrets in a woodland glade at Cammo. If you don't know anything about Alice Oswald (and you should, she's brilliant) don't worry, I'll be posting about her very soon.