December paradox! The hand of death
That the heart seizes and a numbness brings
To sense and feeling, nurtures yet the roots
Deep-hidden the frost-shuttered earth beneath,
Where secretly the embryonic springs
Wait with a pent-up power to stir the shoots.
All nature rests with half-suspended breath
For the returning life to give it wings,
And bless the toil of man with flowers and fruits;
To slip its gleaming sword from ancient sheath.
We in the swing of the year’s pendulum
Rest but to gather what we’ve freely spent,
To spend again; the while the soul’s pabulum
Ever increases till its fulfilment.
Weekly Times 14.12.62