A
Passion
for Pruning
I’m doing the wind’s work
pruning the geraniums
with impersonal care
though I love them (sort of)
do they even know I’m there?
Pruning is my favorite pastime,
I’d weed and shape myself (and I do!)
knowing how buds are easily born
by beheading a stalk or two.
Lord, let me never tire of growing,
no matter when it comes or where;
out of my element or off my game,
I refuse ever to cease to take care.
For all of us are like flowers,
whether our petals are pink or red.
We need the rain, the wind, and sun,
to insure we’re properly bred.
If beauty’s in the eye of the beholder,
then we gardeners have work to do,
because being in charge of a flower
is a privilege when it falls to you.
If you’ve no interest in blooming
here, there, now or ever again,
then what’s the point of beauty
if it can’t be offered to a friend?
We are tulips with burnished edges,
roses with a sunset’s purple hue,
dandelions meant to wander
filling in a field with yellow (or two!).
Being both gardeners and flowers
is a conundrum that’s for sure.
But the purpose of our horticulture
is to be the cause of one’s own cure.
09/09/21
1 comment:
Peter! Another beautiful, meaningful and insightful poem with a healing nature intertwined! There is no need to become stagnant in life as the world and everything around us continuously evolves, creating indiscriminate and infinite opportunities to grow each and every moment of the day. Each individual possesses this power, and it will blossom as long as the individual has the courage and the desire to expand one’s immediate vision, which will permit growth to move in with the possibility soar to new and unexpected heights and levels throughout one’s life. Growth. Also, I love how your poem rhymes! Again, keep sharing your beautiful and profound gift of writing with the world, Peter! Bravo!!!👏✍️
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