This grief is blooming
Blossoming, burgeoning
the bleak, crisp, untenable soil
has softened and loosened its
cold-hearted grip
finally, capably
initiating new life
The scent and vivacity with which
this growth progresses
–such fortuitous lusciousness–
Has been a blessed reminder
That though sorrow indeed strips bear
the life once relished here,
the springtide beauty
still born from this brumal spell
Is far more resilient and refreshing,
quite unexpected.
For though I died
I have been raised to life.