the changing season, like a stranger, comes
with soft surprises, unexpected, warm

Oh thickened wall—what do you guard so well?
What lies behind you, hidden out of sight?
I long to see, to speak, to climb, to know,
Too dense to break, too hard to open wide.

Perhaps a crack, a slip between your seams,
A narrow hole where light might gently slip.
Ah look—a sparrow comes to peck your mortar,
Unworried by my watching silence near.

She pecks, then flies—and leaves me with her way.
I take a stone, and follow what she taught.
Through tiny space I gasp at sudden worlds—
Of lawns and roses spread in quiet light.

How full my eyes, to feast on pictured grace,
Soft sounds begin to trickle through my mind,
They rise, not fall, they press against my throat,
And pass my lips in low, unbroken hums.

Awakening heart from dull, near-deadened calls,
How rich, how strange, this constellation—life.
How light it feels to touch its hidden joy,
And push away the weight of sleep and stone.

I press the wall so gardens still may breathe,
This secret gift for bearing barren days.
I seal the hole until another time.

How majestic now this wall that once concealed,
Great treasures resting deep within its womb.
What vivid colors nature chooses now,
To fill my heart, my head, my ears with song—
A music rich that tastes of paradise,
And sets my spirit softly into whole.