"For as the earth
bringest
forth
her bud..."
- Isaiah
oh mother
earth
pregnant with
seed
and bud
and full-blown
rose
your rich
dark
loamy soil
a womb for what
we forget
predates us in His
line of
creation
your heart,
like hers,
does not wait for
symbol sun,
or child's voice to
radiate a love
that warms
and
holds
and
heals...
you do not
say
"only when I feel the
heat of orb or
hand,
or cradled head"
will I rise and
nurture,
bring forth and
delight
you carry within
you the
true light,
the
light of Love
so certain
in the sure glow of
what is
the unshakable Truth that
all is
His
and you are
but
the incubus of
Her Self-expression,
a divine imperative
to
Be
and so you
rest beneath a blanket of
snow,
never ceasing to
hold bud and blossom
in the
soft embrace of
your ever-conscious
vision
transfixed on
wholeness,
perfection,
beauty,
potential,
worth
just as he
never forgot that in
the summer of his
growing
there was also
the
autumn of his
glory,
and the
springtide of
his
rising...
for
us
"the earth
is full
of Thy
riches..."
~ Psalms
