He has lived long on his knees,
spent time among the lilies and the sparrows,
sowed seeds—many given over
to birds or weeds—
has bled from thorns,
and labored under the sun’s yoke of light.
He’s watched seeds fall, be buried,
and cease to be what they were,
become something glorious—
the blade, the ear, the grain.
He’s laid his hands, dirt-dyed,
on earth’s small wounds
and healed them with growth.
(He wipes his face
and leaves a smudge upon his brow.)
He has worked with struggling trees
and gifted them with the detritus of death
so they bore fruit.
A gentle, generous soul,
it seems he’s laid himself in earth
so many times that everything around him grows.
So deeply one with all of life,
he’s hard to single out,
even in this new dawn’s light,
fresh risen from the dead.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:
Podcast: Play in new window | Download (Duration: 1:20 — 1.8MB)