Is barren
as am I bare
words and leaves take leave,
like oak leaves blown in the wind
words caught in a dry mouth
my thoughts unsung
unvisited by birdsong
or caterpillar crawl
or frog hop
or mantis prayer

I await the promise in a magnolia blossom
a rose bud
a forsythia flourish
the hydrangea knows when to be quiet
as does the dogwood
and the garden snake

I imagine lying down in the mulch at the end of Summer
and going to sleep in the Fall with the Mantis ooetheca
knowing what survives Winter will blossom come Spring

The birds will tell me when to fill their bath
and I will find a young cardinal there
peering into the kitchen window

Wake up,
the play is about to begin