He plucked the mistakes from his heart
Uprooting the dry bulbs and coiled stems
With an empty satisfaction that consumed him

Pruning himself for perfection
And deep in the earth he buried his sins

Day after day
He maintained his routine
Summer dawned,
Autumn fell,
Winter withered

And alas came spring
When all is made new

A tender green bud
Still wet with life
Burst through the earth
With a courage
Soft enough
To make itself seen