a topsoil self stretched two inches thin in each
direction, rotten lessons from years past
so mulled over,
turned so many times
in the heat of your compassion, your
fiery embrace,
they glisten now –
enriched loam returned
to eden,
ready for
growth. That and just one seed of an idea,
a gentleness that looks like hope
curled in an empty shell.
You do not have to believe yet.
The full flower
burst radiance
of this oak tree,
this carrot,
this miraculous wrapping of lettuce
around your core cannot
be suspected or even
coaxed into being with your want and especially
not your need. The best
seeds carry no notion of you, sprout
little gratitude for the water you shower or
your dreams. They rightly divine:
all that is needed to grow
is their birthright.
Fulfill
basic conditions of nourishment
and life begins.
It is not a matter of how to grow
or why.
Once begun
the only miracle is how often
we stop ourselves.
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