The lessons as our gardens grow,
Come fast among the seasons slow.
Ancient wisdom handed down
In richest soil the seeds are sown.
We sow the seeds, the harvest reaps,
Short span of life is lived for keeps.
Planting roots in holy place,
We kneel in prayer in sacred space.
My garden blooms with great delight,
While keeping track of humans plight.
Tis’ a sanctuary of sweet worth….
This plot of deepest, darkest earth.
The brownest, fertile teeming soil,
Invites the world to come and toil.
Cultivate the crops to share,
Feed brother, sister, child who dare…
To cry aloud and ask in need,
Their hunger fed…a simple deed.
The gardens meant to bring us joy,
Can feed each girl and hungry boy.
The lands that feed and ask for naught,
Are often used for battles fought.
Instead of carrots…beans of size,
The ground is used for mourner’s cries.
The earth that once was fertile green,
Is mixed with red and bloody scene.
An urban lot or country lane,
The choice is ours and just the same.
We use our life in sharing wealth,
Or hoarding ground with greedy stealth.
We hold each day of untold blessing,
As sacred gift and garden’s lesson.
Community of hearts that grow…
And reap exactly the seeds they sow.
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