This is the week
My senses
Kick it up a notch.
If there are any connections
To be made,
I make them.
I know the redbuds are connected
Underground
With all redbuds
Everywhere.
Perhaps it is dangerous for me to begin
Something new now.
It will naturally connect
With everything else.
Soon I will be overwhelmed
With possibility.
This is the week
Of possibility.
Everything is connected
Underground,
Even above ground,
In the air.
I smell the lilacs on the breeze.
I feel the ground beneath my sneakers.
It moves in connection
With all things.
Everything matters.
There is possibility everywhere.
Even before death,
Resurrection
Is immanent.
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