May is the month when spring sings. The flute song of the oriole zings through air heady with the scent of lilac and lily-of-the-valley. And in the orchard, amidst apple trees newly be-leafed and be-blossomed, spring’s aria of rebirth reaches a transcendent, soul-shimmying crescendo.

Born Again in the Apple Orchard

by Cheryl Perreault

While I walk shy in my own quiet human skin,

suddenly with new eyes I see

the revivalist nature of all these trees

amidst this verdant, vibrant church of apple orchard.

All arms extended out in welcome,

converting my human reticent feet to change their cautious pace,

to want to dance as they resonate with all this

celebration of tribal vibrant pounding sound

holy-rollering from this fertile sanctuary that surrounds,

like the wild summer finch twitter and the blackbird call of oak-a-ree,

like the breeze howling out vespers of sacred songs of poetry.

This place of congregation hallelujah life force

of every effervescent single cell of thing — all welcome and all welcoming,

even the chanting multitude of a million tiny swaying grasses,

even the viridescent katydid with outstretched praying legs.

All here focused on the infinite arboreal blue that peeks and preaches

among every living thing reaching skyward.

Suddenly this orchard becomes my religion and ancestry.

Suddenly I feel tree prayers from deep within the roots of me.

Suddenly I surprise myself with my own newfound voice

belting out loud hymns of rejoice amidst this choir of apple trees.

Cheryl Perreault hosts programs of poetry, storytelling, and song and is a long-time participant in Old Frog Pond Farm & Studio’s Plein Air Poetry projects. Since the start of the pandemic, she has taken to sitting outside for long durations to applaud the poetry of birds, squirrels, and trees.

“Born Again in the Apple Orchard” first appeared in the Plein Air chapbook, Memoir.