Gently does it – a poem by Kate Garrett

Gently does it

It takes time for the days to strengthen. We want the world to be golden and emerald when we open the door to a March morning – we want daffodils resting on clover, gilt eggs, the heat of day. But this light is lemon, the pale neutral of newborn swaddling blankets. This is still a chilly sun, but the breeze promises leaf buds and the answers to your prayers as a reward for your patience. There’s no need for a sacrifice – unless you want to give up everything that wastes your time, to make room for brighter beams when they at last shine across the path. Give thanks to the sun and the shadows while we are perfectly balanced, spinning in space. The story repeating here is undefined; the magic of renewal is one-size-fits-all. In Christ, they say, they are born again. But every spring we are all born again. Each rotation is a chance to greet the slow warming ready to run – lips parted, a mouthful of song.


Kate Garrett is a writer, witch, mama, and drummer who sometimes haunts 450 year old houses (as a heritage volunteer). Her next book, A View from the Phantasmagoria, is due out in October 2020 from Rhythm & Bones Press. She lives halfway up a hillside in Sheffield, England.

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s