It begins with just a few seeds,
falling randomly on bare ground
beneath my patient cedar tree—
all summer long the feeder stood empty
after two days of being full,
first a lone chickadee found the Source.
The gray squirrel came next,
probably heard some delighted and
fat-bellied sigh on a tree branch above him.
OH! Now there are two!
The mandala of husks is growing,
changing by the minute,
a rich spiral of dark and light,
and I see flutters and
bright eyes in the rich cover.
Not everything leaps to completion—
holding a process is like trusting
the pregnant waddle of the universe.
Find the entire poetry collection This Nurturing Awe: Poems Inspired by the 99 Beautiful Names of God at