The Light of the Earth

Strange, isn’t it,

how the dark earth

grows in spears of light.

 

And it’s strange,

how a child of crystal,

bends light into words.

 

But it’s very strange,

when the messenger

appears at my door.

 

Stranger still when

she tells me,

I must listen.

 

Tells me I must hear,

the Light of the Earth,

tender words of spring eternal.

 

Poem: Sarah Fuhro

Photo: Bruce Lhuillier

 

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