Awaiting Resurrection

With the world

careening around andcatching me up,

dragging me along in its crazy irresistable wake,

I long to be dropped

like a useless and barely noticeable weed

in a fecund place.

There I will lie, sleeping quietly, sweetly,

trustingly dead.

Disguised by stillness, movement may come;

infinitesimal stirrings

send down roots into kind deep earth.

The compassionate sky

will send rain, guide the sun

and without my knowing,

perhaps I’ll grow.

Perhaps I will suddenly find myself

standing tall again

with tender new leaves.

I shall wait, patient as a dandelion

for the flower of me to unfold its petals.

Sunlike, in my circular display of light,

I shall know without thinking that I am

a thing of praise.

I won’t be wondering

what the future may bring,

I will not fear what change may come

or not come.

Like a Dandelion,

I will accept another death.

Silently, gratefullly, blooming will shrivel,

the sun go out, my body  go still

and blessedly free.

My second blooming

will surprise me:

this lighter than air renewal of my being.

But I have learned trust.

Like the Dandelion,

I shall surrender to the wind.


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One Response to “Awaiting Resurrection”

  1. Kendall Says:

    Oh yes, Leif, yes! This is beautiful, and even the tags are beautiful. Just the right poem for this moment in the year, and in our lives.

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