Know Thyself, Heal Thyself
2 min readMay 15, 2024


A Poem About Coming Home ~

Top Left photo by Cosmic Timetraveler on Unsplash
Top Right photo by Matthias Münning on Unsplash
Bottom Left photo by Ricardo Gomez Angel on Unsplash
Bottom Right photo by Author

Once Winter doth her icy grip withdraw,
Tis a genesis of rebirth and mud.
Sowing impatience for the earth to thaw,
Fiddleheads to furl, and Lilacs to bud.

Soon the broad leaves of Oak and Maple trees
Will filter the rays of an ardent sun.
I shall sit again beneath their canopy
To savor what Mother Nature hath begun.

I’ll lay carpet on the lawn in the shade
And read from Frost, Thoreau, and Millay.
I’ll relish Summer’s exquisite palette,
Deserving the artistry of Monet.

As the sun sets, I’ll breathe deeply,
relax, and let my mind go astray.
Perhaps I’ll pen a verse or two
before retiring for the day.

When leaves on the trees begin to convey
subtle hues of red and yellow and gold,
tis the onset of Autumn’s grand display
as my favorite time of year unfolds.

I’ll dress warmer in tones that are duller,
walk forest trails, and read books by the fire.
I’ll roam the backroads looking for color
Take Thanksgiving with who I love and admire.

Winter strips the leaves that Autumn forgets.
Temps fall from frosty to frigid in a heartbeat.
Northern lights on clear nights after the sun sets.
Christmas lights on snowy nights down on Main Street.

“Snow piles up good when nor’easta winds swirl.
But we keep diggin’ out and doin’ tha chõas.
Ā-yuh, winta up hē-a ain’t fa flatlanda’s Earl.
It’s bisness as use-yul, jus mostly indōas.”

“I apologize if my last verse offends any old-tīmas. I’m an old Vermonter and took some liberties with the vernacular. My wife and I returned to New England last fall after 53 years away. This was/is our first Winter and Spring and it struck me how different my interests are now and what I look forward to doing as the seasons change.”

© 2024 RidgeMagee

Ridge's Poetry

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