Vernal Villanelle

Evening and morning were the first day,

sweet repose arose to activity;

a stony, fallow field to seed gave way,

and life, interred to sleep the frost away,

roused in the warm light of nativity.

Evening and morning were the first day.

Spring's descent through the landscape, bright and fey,

unlocked the gates of winter's penury;

a stony, fallow field to seed gave way.

Everything seemed lifeless, cold and gray,

but life was still – simply sleeping deeply.

Evening and morning were the first day.

The buried dead awoke with the first warm ray

of vernal sun, and woke the sleeping trees...

a stony, fallow field to seed gave way.

Spring laid living flesh on bones of decay,

from the blighted barren she birthed bounty;

evening and morning were the first day,

a stony, fallow field to seed gave way.