In the country of the blind, Where men refuse the seen, Where oblivion reigns and denial rules most proud. Where seers prate and preen the falsehoods of the day. In all the darkened corners One-eyed beggars see the light.
Trilliums push up in my yard, Spring has coaxed them out. No need to distance, No virus to hinder. Just the pull of an ancient call, The warmth of a thawing world, And a promise for the future.