Heralds by Kelsa Graybill

The first leaves are heralds
of sunshine and song,
tiny green angels
unfurling their scrolls to say:
The winter is over and past.
Spring is here.

Their message echoes
in the cries of birds
returning from the south and
we mirror it as our shoulders sag
with relief and exhaustion that
we have weathered
the storms of December,
the fear of January,
and the frozen forever that is February.

The angels do not need to tell us
not to fear.
Our greatest fear is
the time when nothing can be heard,
when the birds have migrated
and the leaves have fallen and rotted
but next year’s buds are silent coils
not yet unfurled.

Today we forget silence
in our wonder at the heralds
and their joyous chorus.
Spring has no silence but only sound.
The heralds will companion us through
the longest days of the year.

Kelsa Graybill lives in eastern Pennsylvania with her husband and their Australian labradoodle. She writes about spiritual formation, embodiment, and nature at kelsagraybill.com.