Between the Waters

My Garden (a metaphor)

By: EarlB, 1:25 AM GMT on June 15, 2011


In my garden grow
The staples: the foods,
The fruits of need and
Necessity.

In a few rows,
All transit straight,
Weeds are hoed away,
All made ready for the harvest.

And so it has been,
Year by year,
Weeds hoed away,
Harvest after harvest.

And then,
Amidst this old order
Arose the bright chaos
Of unsown beauty.

Between rows
Of onion and bean
Grew a splash
Of surprise color:

A little cluster
Of blanket flowers
Breathing into me and my garden
The love that was missing.

Long I have waited,
For this sign of hope,
This loving relief from the
Year by year toil of the row.

Updated: 11:02 PM GMT on June 17, 2011

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