Spike is Best

The pale bean is like a dragon's egg:
a green hatchling rearing out its spine.
The shell is split, two wings are splayed
before it spirals up the fence-taut twine.

The dumb, the innocuous, the dead,
leavens a leaping out all unexpected,
like the flake of flint that is an arrowhead.
Our sin is conquered by a slip of Bread.

"The least in heaven is greater than he."
The mildest leaf by the cold bright sheen,
points to the moon face through the tree,
then to the sun, nowhere to be seen.