Garden Companion

The open face of a flower, reveals

sunlight in your own unfolding

within, warmed to rising,

expanding, heart, mind, and hand.

Rich light reflected thaws 

grip of cold, dissolves 

shuddering night, lifts psalms

to trinity, color to form, 

hope to promises broken, 

design to deity, holy reflecting 

holy mirror, swelling silent song 

to source, color to palette, 

canvas to brush beggar's hand 

made Master's stroke and 

all that I am shines in praise, 

radiating All That Is 

and All That Will Be, 

for love, light, and healing, 

for tending and nurturing, 

for grace embracing you and me. 

Walk with me through the night,

hands free to hold and pray,

for starlight, for solid ground

in a world lost, feeling found

under layers of decay.

By day would you share

stories, songs and prayers, 

that tell how loss, winter,

and death feel like the end 

of anything mattering again 

until All That Is defeats the frozen

rising in crimson flora flame, 

blazing yellow, victorious violet, 

a color guard for spring's parade.

If you walk with me 

and carry the tune,

I'll pretend I know 

where I'm going 

and make up the words

but I'll also help you 

remember when you might forget

that neither winter or spring, 

not height nor depth,

not even life or death, 

nor any power from here,

below, or above

can separate us 

from the Love that gave us 

Itself, each other, and ourselves; 

the Us of us and the We of me,

the spirit rising when we feel weak,

the foundation, terra firma 

beneath rumbling ground.

Remember peace is a current

to lead, speak and direct, 

caught in traffic, children in tow, 

in a courtroom, or a hospice bed, 

it's the same voice of creation 

that spoke Eden into being,

and the name of Lazarus 

to the dead, 

and heard Its' own voice answer 

the question asked in despair,

"No, I've not forsaken You," 

 every resurrection says,

"Rise in worth, position, 

 and in healing 

 that forgiveness,

 given and received, 

 brings;

 Rise in abundance, 

 Enough, to share but not store.

 Love is what you are

 and love is everything.

 How could you be more?"

This could be repetitive 

but is it clear, that 'more' 

isn't what we need, 

even when it comes to faith?

What's needed is still: 

willingness and the Word.

The mustard seed of belief 

needed for soil overgrown 

is the same as for barren sand. 

The same small measure of faith

needed for a 4-H garden 

is the same needed 

for the whole promised land.

The pinhead speck of faith

that softens hearts to grow

is the same that brings the rain.

The peace that stills the storm

can also calm our minds 

and ease our heart's pain 

when winter is long,

when habits persist, 

when shadows are the norm,

when hope feels low,

and doubt is strong,

and letting go feels 

like falling through,

when being scared is old 

and trust brand new,

when we depend on fear 

but faith is suspect, 

even then, it's true, 

we are as close 

to connection and communion

as we are to our own hearts, 

to our own willingness

to pause, to quiet our minds,

to listen in reverence,

to lay down what we hold 

and nestle into What holds us,

to rest in reliance on the ancient 

of days gone by in gardens 

where healing waters flow 

and flowers damp with 

mercys' dew 

rise warmed by love 

we absorb, confident 

of the only Truth I know,

that I am the beloved

and so are you 

and there are no mysteries 

in the Truth made plain,

only resistance 

to a message of surrender 

when we're convinced 

control, not cultivation,

is the way.

-pdk

5/7/24