Benediction for the Buried Choir

Blessed be the bronze-bright brethren
buried beneath earth,

not hurried
nor hounded by the hot haste
that harrows those above;
they harbor whole years
in root-rich darkness.

Then—

Burst!

Brown shells split,

husks clinging to bark;
black-veined banners blaze in branches.

The air, once austere,
awakens to abundance:

millions making one music,
each small singer lifting
the fathomless chorus—

teaching that waiting
need not be wasting,
that what is unseen
may still become.