“But, Gardens Flourish”


“But, Gardens Flourish”

But gardens flourish with the healer’s touch,
As beauty sees the soil and is well pleased.
And who does not delight his God with ease
In humble planting, and in the tender care of so much
Bounty shared within the house beyond its door that
Shares in plenty for the harvest of a glance,
Effortlessly, and then some. Growth and substance
Between the fallow ground and the loving farmer’s cap
Provide the essence of returning routine rapture.
Yes! and more. A man plants the seed
Lives without his gathering and all his needs
Are satisfied as he stands within himself; he captures
What is blessed with anxious gratitude in the hand
That feeds his multitudes from recreated spoils in the land.

One response to ““But, Gardens Flourish”

  1. Man can make of nature a garden… or a desolation. Surely the Creator notices, for a garden uplifts the heart and brings us closer to the divine. As you say, beauty finds expression through the soil. Written with a gardener’s touch.

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