A Sunday Poem | April Flowers

Happy Sunday, friends. I’m back to day with another Wendell Berry poem – one that feels perfect for an early Spring day during a season in which we’re all in desperate need of flowers.

A man is walking in a field
and everywhere at his feet
in the short grass of April
the small purple violets
are in bloom. As the man walks
the ground drops away,
the sunlight of day becomes
a sort of darkness in which
the lights of the flowers rise
up around him like
fireflies or stars in a sort
of sky through which he walks.

This Day: Collected & New Sabbath Poems by Wendell Berry

This one feels magical, mystical. My knowledge of Wendell Berry poems is limited to this one book of poetry, but he tends to write about solid, earthly topics. There’s not a lot of floating up into the sky in this book! If I had to offer an explanation, I think I would say that this is an image of being in Heaven – amongst the wild violets on a beautiful spring day. But as I write this morning, I’m choosing to think of fairies and elves alight all around him on a magical day. Poetry reader’s prerogative, right?

I hope you all have a gorgeous Sunday. I plan to be back tomorrow with a look into my notebook. Take good care!


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