Mysteries, by Renee Cassese

Mysteries

Beneath a snow quilt

in its bedroom of frozen soil—-

Does the crocus bulb

know that come spring she’ll

be the first flower to bloom?

In autumn as they drift to earth—-

Do the crinkled

leaves whisper the promise

that they will return

green again—like hope?

Does the brown bunny family

nibbling on dawn moist clover

know I spy on them wishing

I could stroke the softness

of their ears?

Mystery—-

Mystery

The lack of answers

keeps me alive.

I want to capture in the gentle cup of verses the soul of life—- mine, yours, every living creature’s.

Which galaxy did the star At the center of this apple Come from? If I take a big enough bite Of it can I leave the garden?

then came the rains crying into the earth tears providing nourishment for flowers unbloomed then came the rains

And this is the rainbow of leaves—bouquets of fire and brilliance that almost blind me yet I don’t blink