in lettuce is the cosmos,
a liminal space
of creative interruption
where violets break forth
upon greens in retreat
and other colors scatter
like paint
thrown here
upon the toil of being
upon the weight of time
by an artist outside herself
ecstatic
with inspiration.

crafting Nature's bounty,
and determining Order's grace,
she delivers the glory
of God's paternal womb:
the first fruits of redemption
made manifest
in the dust of the earth.

- 10.13.09