O Holy Trinity,
you wear earth’s sacred cycles
as a garment:
the diaphanous potential
of youth-like spring;
the fecund generativity
of fertile summer;
wisdom’s autumnal shedding
of all that no longer serves.
You teach me that every ending
is a new beginning,
and that each beginning
resolves itself
in dissolution.
At the hour
of my own death,
plant me in the earth –
blood, bones, and flesh –
seeds wind-borne back home.
Meet Mago Contributor Yvonne M. Lucia.
You express so effortlessly and so beautifully this primal truth that I struggle so hard to accept. Thank you.