a moment for poetry

The Monastery Orchard in Early Spring
Kathleen Norris

God's cows are in the fields,

safely grazing. I can see them

through the bare branches,

through the steady rain.

Fir trees seem ashamed

and tired, bending under winter coats.

I, too, want to be light enough

for this day: throw off impediments,

push like a tulip

through a muddy smear of snow,

I want to take the rain to heart

and feel it move

like possibility, the idea

of change, through things

seen and unseen,

forces, principalities, powers.

Newton named the force that pulls the apple

and the moon with it,

toward the center of the earth.

Augustine found a desire as strong: to steal,

to possess, then throw away.

Encounter with fruit is dangerous:

the pear's womanly shape forever mocked him.

A man and a woman are talking.

Rain moves down and

branches lift up

to learn again

how to hold their fill of green

and blossom, and bear each fruit to glory,

letting it fall.