This morning
for the first time
in a long darkness
I heard the water sing,
taking the ice apart
with her quick fingers
like a woman
unraveling a shawl.
And something in the earth
under the snow,
under my feet,
awoke and sang along.
And something in my bones
under my skin,
under my coat,
was humming too
as if it almost knew
the melody.
For far too long
I have been walking
in my sleep,
wearing these ankle-weights.
And now
the trees are trembling
in this light
and soon the birds,
with tiny magnets in their wings,
will be pulled back to us.
-- Deb Cooper