How April Comes

 

Outside the window

in the hollow of your spine

on a long black twig

still cold with night dew,

plum blossoms 

silently bursting.

When you see things

that happen within you

out there,

and things that happen

out there within you,

you see how a breath

of wonder

pries open the tomb.

How a savior walks

barefoot through

the disheveled garden,

his voice whispering

“Mary”

almost like a prayer.

How the woman cries

“Rabboni!"

and drops her weighty
urn of tears,

shattering the darkness.

How April comes,

and all the juices

in our earthen jars

turn to wine.

See Gospel of John, chapter 20.
This poem appears in the Tiferet Journal, Spring,2023
Painting by Wang Mian, b. 1287