Mudsong Poem by edward lilley

I miss you.
It has rained for two weeks here.
Winter has seemed endless.
So little light.
Last night, I watched a trickle, and then legions of ladybugs emerge from a crack in our bedroom ceiling.

Early this morning I recieved your letter telling me you will not be coming back.
I sat helpless, stupid for a long time in the dark.

At noon I found a beautiful cardinal dead beneath our side window,
Having battled to his death with his own reflection.
I promised I would bury him later when I could find something to wrap him in
And laid him on the porch out of the rain.

At dusk it stopped raining.
I came out in stocking feet, a blanket over my shoulders,
Just to check and see if the stars were still in the sky where they are supposed to be.
So little light.

I remembered the cardinal,
Looked down, felt cold mud soaking into my socks,
And there, between my feet,
My God, the stars!
A miraculous twinkle of white crocuses,
Impudent beaks, barely breaking through the dark.
I stood there rocking, strange laughter coming into my mouth,
Mud rising around me, crying aloud,
' If crocuses can make it, so can I!
So can I!
So can I! ! '