Visit

When I visit
the cemetery
at the close of day
(or is it evening now?)
at the end of Winter
(or is it the beginning
of Spring?)
I am very sure,
nearly certain in fact,
that Unknowing
is the space
of compassion,
that Bewilderment
is the source
of creation,
and that God loves
to wonder,
which is why
this tulip emerges
from the snow,
this breath turns
homeward
toward silence,
and on the gravestone,
in the first letter
of her name,
this drop of dew
(or is it a tear?)
contains the sky,
the night, and all
the stars unseen.





Photo from englishrussia.com