Planting bulbs
Kneel.
Dig deep.
And a little more.
Reach out and put your hands in the wounds,
little graves,
from whence they came.
What is precious in you,
full of beauty and possibility,
life in-folded and present,
is buried.
Beyond your meddling.
Rise, and walk away.
The earth produces of itself,
the sower knows not how.
Trust the mystery.
Even in deepest winter
the bulbs of grace believe in you,
patient in their womb.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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