Marsh Marigolds

120 :: Marsh Marigolds

With What Hope

did you write your way into paradox,
trapped there
hands lit by thorns
and the creek
holding marsh marigolds under pines
unimaginable last spring?

These footsteps,
this passageway over the swale
where willow tips reach upward,
gather the sap of earth
running deep
and visible as soon as we arrive.

Do we belong here?

Merely by walking with bare feet,
earth opens,
and what’s within comes without
vulnerable, exposed,
life giving?

In her generosity
she makes herself susceptible
to contamination.

Everything comes to drink with
muddy feet,
a winter’s worth of thirst,
parched lips –

and still, she flows.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *