The mist descended gently from the 7 hills
And kissed the ground with weighty lips
Remaining low in the valley four months
Pesach cleaning swept the dampness from the corners of the kitchen
Brushed it out the front door where it dissolved in the sun
The water bubbles bursting with excitement
As they rose into the blue skies.
I hadn’t known it when I moved in,
But there was a thick rose patch that lined the walk to my front door
I didn’t notice stems or buds, just, one day, roses!
Their petals unrolled overnight
Open-palmed spirals of color
Tie-dyed whirls of springtime hallelujah.
Fanned out, sunsplashing,
the quiet gasp of resuscitation.
A triumphant return from the depths.
A surprising restoration of color to the soul.