I Do Not Know
I do not know how winter seeps into brittle earth slowly
thawing.
I do not know how brown drought under
pearly-sheen white blanket suddenly springs Vibrant.
I just curl under blanket white, shivering and hoping for
spring.
I do not know how Life grows.
I do not know how green shoots shove
aside black earth to Light.
I do not know how power shimmers in an Empty tomb.
It is not me; that much I know. I could not do this. Could
not make it happen.
Even if I really wanted to. And I do… I do, so want to
make it happen.
But I cannot. I must simply watch and wait, breathing
until something Bursts forth.
Resurrected and Newly Alive.
I do not know how Life grows.
