Wednesday, July 20, 2011
I’ m in my summer garden
To clear a path that feet may trod
Amidst the pink, the red, the green
Untidy glorious touch of God.
Cascading pinks of huge Spirea
I chop and throw away
Revealing concrete underfoot
Where flowers had blocked the way.
Wondrous wildness overflows,
Beauty spills o’er unkempt garden,
Shears in hand I prune and cut,
Then feeling shame, I beg God’s pardon.