"To the New Year" by W.S. Merwin

With what stillness at last
you appear in the valley

your first sunlight reaching down

to touch the tips of a few

high leaves that do not stir

as though they had not noticed

and did not know you at all

then the voice of a dove calls

from far away in itself

to the hush of the morning

so this is the sound of you
here and now whether or not

anyone hears it this is

where we have come with our age

our knowledge such as it is

and our hopes such as they are

invisible before us

untouched and still possible

"To the New Year" by W.S. Merwin from Collected Poems: 1996-2011. © The Library of America, 2011. 

The Veil of May" by W.S. Merwin

"Spring Trees" by Jim Cox

No more than a week and the leaves

have all come out on the ash trees

now they are more than half open

on the ancient walnuts standing

alone in the field reaching up

through the mute amazement of age

they have uncurled on the oaks from

hands small as the eyelids of birds

and the morning light shines through them

and waits while the hawthorn gleams white

against the green in the shadow

in a moment the river has

disappeared down in the valley

the curve of sky gliding slowly

from before not seeming to move

it will not be seen again now

a while from this place on the ridge

but over it the summer will

flow and not seem to be moving

"The Veil of May" by W.S. Merwin from Collected Poems. © Library of America, 2013. 

"Mountain Day" by W.S. Merwin

Photo by VegaStar Carpentier Photographie

With one dear friend we go up the highest mountain

thousands of feet into the birdless snow

and listen to our breaths in the still air

for a long time beside the observatories

later we stretch out on the dark crumbled

lava slope looking

west at the sun yellowing the clouds below

then go down past the wild cows to the cabin

getting there just before sunset

and eat by the fire laughing at what we have

forgotten to bring

afterward we come out and lie

braided together looking up

at Cassiopeia over the foothill.

"Mountain Day" by W.S. Merwin from Collected Poems: 1952-1993. © The Library of America, 2013. 

"To the New Year" by W.S. Merwin

With what stillness at last

you appear in the valley

your first sunlight reaching down

to touch the tips of a few

high leaves that do not stir

as though they had not noticed

and did not know you at all

then the voice of a dove calls

from far away in itself

to the hush of the morning

so this is the sound of you

here and now whether or not

anyone hears it this is

where we have come with our age

our knowledge such as it is

and our hopes such as they are

invisible before us

untouched and still possible

"To the New Year" by W.S. Merwin, from Collected Poems 1996-2011. © Library of America, 2013.

"Homecoming" by W.S. Merwin

"Moonrise Over Usk" by Flora McLachlan

Once only when the summer

was nearly over and my own

hair had been white as the day's clouds

for more years than I was counting

I looked across the garden at evening

Paula was still weeding around

flowers that open after dark

and I looked up to the clear sky

and saw the new moon and at that

moment from behind me a band

of dark birds and then another

after it flying in silence

long curving wings hardly moving

the plovers just in from the sea

and the flight clear from Alaska

half their weight gone to get them home

but home now arriving without

a sound as it rose to meet them

"Homecoming" by W.S. Merwin from The Moon Before Morning. © Copper Canyon Press, 2014.