Send forth Your spirit, they are created
And You renew the face of the earth.
-Psalm 104:30
Dark and formless, until the breath
of renewal fell upon the earth,
a blank page awaiting the word.
Along the trail,
a few blue bonnets poked out of the sandy bank,
a redbud stretched, its leafless limbs
blooming in flamingo colors.
Persistent dandelions
glowed in the rising sun as
early birds stitched nests
among the barren branches.
Robins rummaged through the lawn,
while a bumble bee
buzzed a hymn of praise on her wings.
Winecups bloomed among the other flowers,
their petals chalices of gratitude.
The day wore on —
the sun lingered a little longer over the horizon,
promising warm evenings to come.
The breeze, no longer an icy sting,
whispered of the very first creation.
Jason Hochman grew up in McKeesport and has been living in Houston, TX. He has upcoming artwork that will be published in the Listening Eye, and writing that will be published in Rust Belt Review. Additional poems are forthcoming in WestWard Quarterly.