Through it all the seed would sprout and grow,
[the farmer] knows not how.
Of its own accord the land yields fruit. (Gospel)

Layers of white
bloom
in cold woods
before
trees leaf

each
bearing the
print
of nails

even before the seed
they seem like
stars
suspended or thin
clouds
unattached

or touches of
white
on a canvas of
quiet
earth colors

 

J. Janda