Like the bound bud in the almost
bloomed magnolia, there is life
ready to burst, tight secrets
on the God side buried within
these cool, bright days.
I’m waiting, watching, counting
the sleeps until a quiet
wonder world awakes. Amazed,
I waltz between the longest watch
from each dormant doorway,
through the chill and darkened
mornings to a heart like an open gate.
Ear cupped, poised for my next
birth, I linger for delivery
of the morning’s message–
free and God-breathed–
a silent, green unfurling.
This is a re-worked version of an earlier post/poem from 2014 (thank you Laurie K.) and seemed fit for the burgeoning season of Spring.
-Bee on witch hazel, front yard, last year. Too early for the magnolia soulangeana just yet.