Who Knew?

That you would arrive
In the hard, cold, golden light of
Early December dawn
Piercing, nearly horizontal

Illuminating what remained
In those hopeful, hanging translucent yellow leaves
Along with the desperation of oaks held in their burgundy and browns
God is the light with which we can see

Only the birds seemed to know
You were coming
Short songs of arrival in the sharp, blue frosted air
Brief, excited flights, branch to branch, back to branch

Tiny, darting shadows
Smudges, quick as a thumb to a forehead on Ash Wednesday
No one quite believing in that moment
We are all ashes to ashes, dust to dust

You arrived, a newborn bundle of golden light
Swathed in yellow leaves
Notes of song chirped from your throat
Bouncing in our arms as if playing in trees

We should have known
It was just the beginning
How you arrived is how you would stay
Illuminating the hopeful and the desperate in us all