Gardening is in the Genes

Gardening is in the Genes

In mimicry of God,
I shove the spade into the sod,
turn over the soil,
gently place a seedling redbud tree
within the hole,
firm enriched humus about its roots.
A halo of pink will encircle my head.

An attempt to re-create an Eden
within the confines of a suburban lot.

Knees creak, back aches.
Potting out the petunias, Impatiens, salvia:
dreams of a rainbow riot of flowers
arch through my mind,
blooms nod prayers
in a playful summer breeze.

I stand, stretch, ease sore muscles,
see birds and butterflies decorate my skies.
A pair of hummingbirds dart
in a dazzling zigzag to the feeder.
Where to dig a place for a fish pond,
make a safe haven for frogs, turtles,
a space for colorful Japanese iris
to spear heaven?

An effort to please the eye,
draw praise to a creator,
welcome weary visitors,
refresh a soul.

I rest under the shadow of a living tree
Blossoms perfume the coming night.
I yearn to harvest fruit from its branches
and share with you in delight.

c.Darlene Moore Berg

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