Trust

If I hadn’t planted in the fall, round brown things, more ball
than bulb; if I hadn’t trusted the dark where they nestled full
and waiting; if I hadn’t believed in a promise I could not see

then I would not have spent time spading the earth, turning
the dirt in my hands, whispering secret prayers meant to speed
possibility on its way.  Instead, I would be staring at grass

wishing “if only” for something I should have had.