Blossoming trees so make us swerve,
brightening dark days lidded lead,
silently tempting Wheels to turn,
swiveling eyes from the road ahead
when early lights of cars glare by,
as windscreens streak with drizzled drops -
and from within askance espy
reflections twist in windowing shops
Suddenly, I understand
why Tolkien chose two trees to light
his primal world, the golden glow
of morning and the silver night;
and why the norse Yggdrasil
with Odin godhead brightly shone,
that 'treow' was 'tree' and 'truth' - one word;
of Ash and Elm were humans born.
Ah, Cherry, cheery light of March,
under whose boughs the daffodils
wind-vexed, yellow to unroll
their trumpets, bid birds open bills.
