Silently, slowly, ever so slowly,

Softly pushing aside the soil,

A garden comes to life.

Heaven’s calling card shines bright,

Its warm fingers nourish

The young, yawning seedlings.

They respond in arrays of glorious color,

Soul soothing scents

And bounties so no creature goes hungry.

God’s gift, those gardens wild and tame,  

Places where all lessons can be learned,

Each question answered in whispers.

All we need do

Is listen to the wind

As it winds along our path each day.