Easter, faith

M sent me this poem by Edward Hirsch, who often writes with faith as a theme. I suppose faith is also a part of the life of poets; can you write poetry without faith?  M gets a "poem-a-day" each day of April (which is poetry month in the U.S.), and this poem appeared yesterday.  You can go to the poem-a-day site here:  poem-a-day    (you need to sign-up in the small box at the right of the link's page).

Green Figs 

I want to live like that little fig tree
    that sprouted up at the beach last spring
        and spread its leaves over the sandy rock.

All summer its stubborn green fruit
    (tiny flowers covered with a soft skin)
        ripened and grew in the bright salt spray.

The Tree of the Knowledge of Good
    and Evil was a fig tree, or so it is said,
        but this wild figure was a wanton stray.

I need to live like that crooked tree—
    solitary, bittersweet, and utterly free—
        that knelt down in the hardest winds

but could not be blasted away.
    It kept its eye on the far horizon
        and brought honey out of the rock.