Journey Home

You have to know
when to set out on your journey,
and when to stay home,
see what is about to bloom,
and what needs clearing.
So pull out the rubber boots,
the pointed trowel, the rake,
the heart shaped hoe your grandmother loved
and set to work.
Free the shrubs from overgrowth of fallen leaves,
clip broken, dried maple branches
so the shape shows clear.
Brace up yellow daffodils hanging low
from late spring rains.
Broadcast food for roses
already sending shoots.
Pull weeds sparingly,
as a gesture to order,
but don’t let them fill your vision.
Look up to see
quince, early lilac, snow drops,
magnolias
already flowering.
Remember all those other springs—
children, friends, fathers, mothers—
that bloom with
secret fragrance
as you explore the inside
of the horizon.