Gardening God

Dearest One, may I find you

Just here, in the garden

I watch and notice

How the new shoots 

Pushing up from the earth

Draw your gaze

Before you turn to admire the robust older plants,

Loyal branches laden

Wrapped in delight 

And glory

Beholding

Gazing love and wonder 

Gardening God

You there, amid

The caked, dry clumps of clod

And the smell of sunshine

On the grass

With the bees and bugs that attend

To their own work, determined

And devoted

Here is a scene,

So ordinary 

A recipe for life 

A task of attending, of working and ministering

and a 

Happy witness

Of life weaving goodness

As it grows

A steady promise of flourishing 

Unfurling

Did you begin, that

First, new holy day, by

Leaning up against a tree

And watching the sun rise?

Did you kneel

On the dry, hard earth 

Knees and feet pressed against the grit

As you beheld the sky above

And the universe

All gathered

In awe and unbridled delight?

Did you plunge 

Hands and face

Deep into leaves and flowers blooming

And drink in the wildness 

The heady wonder

Of glory and mystery that 

Unzipped time and eternity

And burst through that unassuming moment?

Did you see me there

Catching a glimpse

Leaning a little closer

Drawn

to God of the dirt

And the life

And this beginning, the first day

Weaving wondering about the first Easter morning, and my life here, today…

“Supposing him to be the gardener…” - John 20:15