Fairy Gold

The celandines are out, at last

Their yellow stars shining with spring promise

Amongst the dark, glistening green

Of ivy leaves and overwintered fern fronds.

In my hands I hold a hunk of beech-wood

Hewn from a green giant felled in the stormy woods.

Split and seasoned,

Through the heat and haze of long summer days,

It will provide me with warmth and light

And slow burning hope

Amongst the dark days and long nights next winter

Until the sudden star-burst of celandines

Heralds the dawning of spring once more.

As I leave the woods,

Filled with fairy gold,

A woodpecker beats out a rhythm

On a tree trunk surging with rising sap.