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Ps.9 The Garden

The garden; overgrown, overwhelmed … is reclaimed. It will be, again, a garden: replanted. Recaptured, revived. Thankfulness replaces bitter stems, As the gardener uproots wasteland-memories with a promise. The gardener sits for a while, Considering the bursts of life and colour that will be. Each flourish of joy held captive in the seeds in the gardener’s hand. The gardener holds the future. Eye’s closed, the gardener can see that future. The gardener can taste its fruit. Eye’s open, the gardener can see the work, and so rises with a song.

Day after day the gardener tends the empty place, Day after day returns to redemption toil, Day after day calls the promise to become. Until, one day. A single, tender shoot breaks through, It is greeted by the gardener’s constant smile. The smile of certainty and hope for what has begun, but, is not yet. Still, day after day the gardener tends the soil and seeds and shoots, Day after day with mud-covered hands and knees and heart, With sweat on brow, With joy … there will be, again, a garden.

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