Yes, it surely hurts when buds are bursting
Why else would springtime falter?
Why would all our heat of longing
be caught in pale and bitter cold?
Buds encased all through the winter –
What’s new that makes them strain and split?
Yes, it surely hurts when buds are bursting,
hurts in what grows
          and in what shields.

Yes, it’s surely hard when drops are falling,
frightened shaking, heavy hanging,
cling to branches, swelling, sliding –
holding on while weighing down.
Hard to fear, divided, doubting,
hard to feel the depth that calls,
and yet remain and merely tremble –
hard to stay
          and hard to fall.

Then, when nothing helps and all seems lost,
the tree buds burst as if rejoicing.
Then, when fear holds on no more
sparkling drops from branches fall
forgetful that they feared the new,
forgetful that they feared the journey –
feel one second safe and sound,
rest in trust
          which creates this world.