Do you know what I was, how I lived?
You know what despair is;
then winter should have meaning for you.
I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me.
I didn't expect to waken again,
to feel in damp earth my body
able to respond again,
remembering after so long how to open again
in the cold light of earliest spring--
afraid, yes, but among you again
crying yes risk joy
in the raw wind of the new world.