Poem by Ina Donna Coolbrith

* * *

AFTER the winter rain,
Sing, robin ! — sing, swallow!
Grasses are in the lane,
Buds and flowers will follow.

Woods shall ring, blithe and gay,
With bird-trill and twitter,
Though the skies weep to-day,
And the winds are bitter.

Though deep call unto deep
As calls the thunder,
And white the billows leap
The tempest under;

Softly the waves shall come
Up the long, bright beaches,
With dainty flowers of foam
And tenderest speeches. . . .

After the wintry pain,
And the long, long sorrow,
Sing, heart!— for thee again
Joy comes with the morrow.

1. If Only
2. Beside the Dead
3. Unbound
4. With the Caravan
5. In the Pouts

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