I sowed a seed in doubt
that it could ever bloom—
can a California poppy weather
an Arkansas high noon?
I tended it with the rest
each morning during spring,
telling my hands in faith to work
toward a beauty I could not see.
Midsummer came in jewels,
the myrtles finely dressed,
just as they were a summer before
when we laid our baby to rest.
I’ve scattered seeds in question
over this long year past,
telling myself in faith to work
toward the springtime after the death.
Then lo! One summer morning,
in the light of long July,
I found a poppy blooming
in the shade of the myrtles high.
Dear Father of all mercies,
who comforts us in our pain,
you sow in the soil of my suffering
and bring poppies forth untamed.
“If we are faithless, He remains faithful.” ~ 2 Timothy 2:13
bethanyjlincks.com 