the earth is enough, the rising of the sun,
the seedling breaking through,
the way my body bleeds to give life to
generations, the earth is enough
for me to know that
you are good.
what else could you be,
when I consider soil and placentas
and homegrown tomatoes.
when I consider the changing of the leaves
and the flavor of blackberries and the way
the day gives way to the evening breeze,
I am certain this weaving is telling me
a truth that is not secret.
as if the night sky’s dotted diamonds
could sing anything but your praises.
the earth is enough for me to know
that you are good.
