Something beautiful
You gave me,
Alive and
Needing care,
And though I tried
To nurture it,
It wound up
Dead and bare.
Something in me
Strangled it,
Crushed its frail
Life out,
And having sought
To love it
I felt shame
And guilt
And doubt.
You gave me then
Another gift,
Beautiful and fresh.
Again I snuffed its spirit out.
Again I brought it death,
For something in me murderous
Upon it took its toll
As I tried to nourish it
With all my heart and soul.
And now I stand
Beside my life
Of painful memories.
Don't let this happen
Any more. Oh, don't
Allow it, please!
Send me to the Grower's School,
To learn to nurture free
The precious gifts You send my way
To let them grow and be,
To join them in a love song
Ever beautiful and new,
Full of joyous spirit
Of gratitude to You.
Amen. This poem really touched me. It's so natural in meaning and form. GS
I love this, Max. This is so human and frail...and such a positive prayer. Raynette
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Is it 'green fingers' that you need Max, this sounds a very 'potted' poem. Keep planting lovely things and you will win through.l Love Ernestine XXX