The Gardener Poem by sharon wildey

A soft breeze from the lake
As I sat with my hands in the dirt
Earth
Blackness under my nail beds
Seemed to find its way there on its own
Growing me
Into the life form
It desires
All from the earth
Life seeps into me
I yield
Oh god, I yield
The unique fragrance of the earth
Calls me to witness
Its astonishment
As every second it lifts up a new fountain of life
I witness
Oh god, I witness
And while I stand in awe at the beauty
Of a single blade of grass
I am just as awed by the heavy boot
Trampling each blade underfoot
I answer
And say, yes
Yes I will be your protector
Your gardener
Oh god, yes I will