In Late Spring

A wonderful metaphor – there are gardens like this in all of us that need attention, nourishment and patience.

A Hundred Falling Veils

The garden rows are visible now,

the slender shoots of carrots,

the succulent leaves of calendula,

the curly beginnings of kale—

after many years these first green shapes

feel like old friends.

I greet them as I walk the rows,

tell them they are doing fine.

And then there are the gaps

between the sprouts, the places

where I can only guess about

why the seeds don’t grow.

A lack of water? Planted too deep?

A shadow? A dud of a seed? A slug?

Of course I take it personally

and wonder what else I should have done.

And then I pull out the extra seeds

and fill in the spots where there is no green.

There is no use in blaming. Just plant the seed

where nothing is growing. It’s so simple,

the task, so lacking in blame.

There are gardens in me begging

for me to do the…

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