Trillium    

All along this hill: trillium
                   white as Christ's robes when
                   He ascended into heaven,
rinsing the breeze free of impediment
on slender stems that stretch below
the moss into the rich, dark dirt.
                   What was His stem when
                   He went to prepare a place for us?
                   Heaven used to be a strip across
                   the top of my crayoned page,
                   with never any stairs to get there.
                   All at once, the bottom drops out.
The trillium draws light from millions
of miles away and streams it down
to even the most secluded root.
                    A child learns to color the whole
                   sky.

-- Pat Campbell Carlson