Resurrection emerges
after winter’s grave desolations:
holiness let loose like pollen in the air,
the scent of blossoming trees.
Oh, we still have to weed our little plot
of its evil and cruelty. Our chores still shriek
and open their little baby bird beaks.
Even death, our own, stands around waiting its turn.
But we’ve come through. We’ve seen the earth
crack wide and yield green living things,
whose roots have grown plentiful beneath us.
Every death’s made smaller by a hidden, greater life.
Some secret song compels this dance, some love
beyond our knowing, that we know, carries us,
like babies on her back, through death to something
new, whose light, beyond our seeing, is always dawning.
__________________
Weather Report
Widening.
As a no-pressure zone advances,
unimagined possibilities
condense into real life
while warmth evaporates the gloom
of guilt and loneliness.
Temperatures in the mid to high alleluias.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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