Everything has changed:
A keystone puzzle piece explaining everything,
Sun coming out bright after weeks of cold rain,
Warmth quickly filling the long-drained vessels
of human hope,
Brimming over in spontaneous smiles.
Nothing has changed:
All this time, buds were forming,
Plump potential taking shape as furled petals
Which now must open,
Green leaves growing from the draft of sweet sap
Which they make from sun
even in the fully shrouded days.
And this bright goodness —
The thing that fills me up with joy —
Why, it was here all along
The only difference is that now,
Despite all former lack of faith,
I know.
©Wendy Mulhern
April 24, 2013
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