Spring is bursting all around us. Every year the seasons come to this crossroads, when the months of quiet death revolve into the exuberant explosion of new life.
Frost’s imagery is passionate, charged with the seductive urge to create. The earth feels this and sends forth new life.
We feel it too and respond in our coming together and in writing, painting, drawing, telling stories, cooking, dancing, laughing, building, talking…
Putting in the Seed
by Robert Frost
From Mountain Interval, 1916
You come to fetch me from my work to-night
When supper’s on the table, and we’ll see
If I can leave off burying the white
Soft petals fallen from the apple tree.
(Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite,
Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea;)
And go along with you ere you lose sight
Of what you came for and become like me,
Slave to a springtime passion for the earth.
How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed
On through the watching for that early birth
When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,
The sturdy seedling with arched body comes
Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.