In the Garden
It is silent work,
tending souls.
Pervading patience,
care-filled, loving attention
paid to each flower,
as if it were the only one.
As God approaches,
I lean forward and open my petals,
and God delights in the aroma
of my hair,
my chest,
my heart.
Savoring each other,
breathing each other,
knowing each other.
Each flower of love is beautiful, yet unique.
Each yearns for the gardener’s attention and nurture.
Being and doing are no longer separate.
“Should” is an unknown concept.
You draw me in master gardener,
put me in your pocket that I may be close to your heart.
Teach me how to love with such gentleness and fidelity,
how to open ever more fully to the radiance of your love,
that it may be revealed though me.