The Return

It was a fitting time to come back home. Too long my feet had wandered, and the years Like weeds had grown between us, shoulder-high. I saw it from the hilltop, saw through tears My long lost childhood in the apple boughs, And greening underneath that stretch of sky A willow I had planted beside the house. Now I was turning home, and I had come A long, long way through time, was back again With all my heart had lost. The farm lay there Waiting in sunlight for me. All was plain Once more, and nothing lost, O nothing now! I quickened my steps and suddenly, I declare, Before I reached the quiet hilltop’s brow The apple trees came running half the way, And as I met them shamefully face to face They reached out blossoming boughs that sun-drenched day And swung me up in their forgiving embrace.