Fallow

Penetrated by the moon, seeds burst, not knowing why. Bees feast on pollen, yet the concept of honey has not occurred to them. Two lovers entangled their glistening chromosomes to weave you from the chaos of desire, yet they never saw your face. Perhaps they gazed half terrified at some formless beauty in each other's eyes, but was it you?

Now this body can't conceive how many dynasties of worms its death will nourish. If the new moon could foretell how her belly will be swollen with radiance, she would hide forever in the shadow of the sun. In the bud's fist, the rose cannot grasp what flowers mean. Fragrance billows from that affliction.

Don't numb your heart with conclusions. Take some time for uncertainty. Let darkness lie fallow until your grief garden ripens. Slowly creatures will unfold, revealing their gifts of light, a riot of amaranth poppies through cracks in the asphalt. Unknowing is not a cloud, but the sky.  Wait boldly. Rest in bewilderment. Don't be so sure.