This I saw on an April day:
Warm rain spilt from a sun-lined cloud,
A sky-flung wave of gold at evening,
And a cock pheasant treading a dusty path
Shy and proud.
And this I found in an April field:
A new white calf in the sun at noon,
A flash of blue in a cool moss bank,
And tips of tulips promising flowers
To a blue-winged loon.
And this I tried to understand
As I scrubbed the rust from my brightening plow:
The movement of seed in furrowed earth,
And a blackbird whistling sweet and clear
From a green-sprayed bough.
James Hearst (1900-1983)
James Hearst was a poet, philosopher and university professor, who published ten volumes of poetry. His style of poetry was domestic and homespun, tending to a celebration of the nature around him. He was frequently described as the “Robert Frost” of the Midwest. His personal life was marred with tragedy, as a diving accident left him partially paralyzed and as he aged the condition worsened. Sadly, his first wife died of cancer following only five years of marriage.