The Sower

by KRISTEN STABY REMBOLD

Since she spent her days as a mother will—
always with a child,

their fingers roots and she the soil—
she did as any woman would,

savored the pitch-dark
before the dawn, or after the bedding-down,

the quiet threading of her thoughts, if the work
were ever done,

like the sower of the parable
who risked where the Word might land,

in good soil or among the thistles,
on the footpath or on the rocky ground.