I walked past the garden
he’d carefully planted
While sun’s rays through fences
upon grass was slanted.

The view brought to mind
how the heart is affected…
When tended with care
it’s the joy that’s reflected.

I saw not a weed
had invaded his flowers…
How his hands must have
weeded and tilled them for hours.

I imagined the barren
before he’d awakened…
The fertile, a canvas
that once was forsaken.

Now dancing with color
alive with the breeze…
A sacred safe harbor
for both birds and bees.

I caught just a glimpse
of his back as he bent…
And I smiled knowing he
had achieved his content.

For a man can be strong
even holding a flower…
And the one planting seeds
knows the feel of its power.