Kneeling on pebbly dirt
in blue jeans and a shirt,
I’m digging with one hand
on California land.
Looking above, I see
the branches of a tree
whose buds are white and green,
their flowers still unseen.
Breathing the springtime air,
I notice ground that’s bare.
Below it, rhizomes hide;
nutrition, they provide.
Why am I planting weeds
instead of planting seeds?
I’d much prefer to sow
the seeds I want to grow.
Suddenly, I’m awake
and gleaning my mistake
in trying to ensure
which seedlings would mature.
In planning out my plot,
mistakenly, I thought
the answer to each prayer
is what would blossom there.
An unfamiliar sprout
was sometimes weeded out.
And now, I wonder what,
in ignorance, was cut….
Though nothing’s as it seems
within the world of dreams,
a mystic-minded sleuth
can ferret out the truth:
Creative thoughts are seeds,
at times, disguised as weeds
that jaded eyes reject,
but child-like hearts respect.
If on my patch of earth,
I only scattered mirth,
when watered from above,
my yard would bloom with love!
What lies in fertile soil
(devoid of human toil)
was planted there by Source
to aid us on our course.
Embracing the unknown,
then Spirit’s seeds are sown;
the gifts of the Divine,
with human faith, entwine.
Not knowing what’s ahead
fills human minds with dread
when we replace the NOW
with when and where and how.
The skill that is a must
is that we learn to trust
that deep inside our soul
lies Spirit’s highest goal.
One’s sacred path resides
where joyfulness abides.
Release regret and fear;
the future’s planted HERE.