Only Hope

There is just
one God
who contains
all the others.
She has no form,
no face except
the mirror
of pure attention.
Then why say "She"?
Because when
you are very still
you hear a flower
breaking its
heart of ice.
Because inside
the trembling

 viridescent sleep
of the buried bulb
it is already
April.
Because the seed
is awake, gazing
into its own
hollow.
And because your
only hope
is Presence.