THE GARDENER

A POEM

Some of the seeds of hope

Planted tentatively in the fall

Have not come up

They will lie still born and unrealized

Somewhere in the spring soil

Decaying

DECAYING

The strongest and best ones

Pushed up through the leaves

And layers of cold , hard resistance

Right into the clear blue air

And they stand there nakedly green

Breathing

BREATHING

It’s always that way with growing things

Never knowing at the start

Which will make and which will fall

But the thing to hold fast to

Never to lose faith in

Is simply

Sowing.

 

SOWING

–ANN NORTH (r.w.p)

SOWIN1

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