When we garden
We remember the beauty of an Eden morning
Naked as the lilies in all their splendor
We were born with dirt under our fingernails
And we spend too much time scrubbing it off
When we should be digging with the worms
Joining our toil with God’s imagination
The violets whisper the ancient garden’s song
Nodding their heads in purple chorus
Forget-me-not
Forget-me-not
~lg
