The Gardener
The Gardener
The lovely lady goes to church,
I see her every week.
I know her name,
Fairy…
Garden…
Angel…
You plant seeds,
tiny, like mustard…
You cover them with love,
understanding, and compassion.
Yet you are so much more!
Your life was taken,
God took it back.
He extended his olive branch.
Now you fight to save the rest,
It… is a test.
Plant your seeds my friend,
for they will grow,
to great trees, and mighty oaks.
Flowers of surprising colors,
watered elegantly,
with your gentleness.
Your face shines, my friend.
The light of Our Lord,
the Mighty Gardener is HE…
Yet, “He” lovingly,
uses ready hands,
steady hands,
your hands,
to turn the soil,
and sow the seeds,
to share from “your” own heart.
Blessings on you, Angel!
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