In my heart

You are a constant gardener,

scattering, steadfast.

When you scattered first

land needed clearing

Patient, with humble ears you, listening

drew out pebbles and tilled the dirt.

You scattered again --

still arid

Speaking, you summoned the life forces:

nitrogen-fixers, rotting things, excited worms.

I smelled spring.

Again you sprinkled --

plain brown

But little quivers in me

like Mexican jumping beans --

a heart full of seeds --

I felt murmurs and tremors of hope

With eyes raining goodbye --

sprouts

They stretched and reached toward you

and grew.

My heart is heavy with such a garden

full of colors

fruits and flowers

 -- don’t leave now --

they are for you