You don’t believe it, do you?
that out of this darkness,
this trudging sameness,
you will stumble and fall hard enough
to jar the life back into you.
Stand in some snow-swept winter field,
the stillness pressing, your breath hanging,
the cold fingering around the edges of your gloves,
the blue sky a strange washed out pastel,
and even here if you close your eyes,
you will smell the pines waking,
the subtle rustle of buds,
the uplift beneath your feet
as some seed stirs.
It is the same with you.
And if you have died before you die,
you are always carrying a bit of spring
in your winter heart.
Find the entire poetry collection This Nurturing Awe: Poems Inspired by the 99 Beautiful Names of God at