In the Beginning

THE thin green of the woods
Begins . . . is tentative,
Is trembling into buds
That learn to live
On light, on greening air,
On less than leaves require;
And so no leaf is there,
Only the shy desire
That presently will be
Leaves in the wind and sun,
And we shall see
The summer’s will be done,
All in good time. . . . But now,
In the beginning, buds
Are less than leaf on bough,
And here the lighted woods
Are thin, are tentative
With green, learning to live.