Garden.

It talks to me, everyday, my garden.

The sprout of a bud for birth
The songs of the birds for mirth

The spread of the petals for offerings
The morning sun for the kiss of love

The weeds and the plants
Growing side by side

The vices and the virtues
Growing within me
Recount my life's story

I plucked out a green
It resisted and I struggled
I knew it was the weed

I plucked out a green
It came off easy
I knew it was the plant.

My garden is where the God lives
For the best place to seek Him is there

I dig for Him there, everyday………….

Click to rate this poem!

[Total: 35 Average: 3.5]