Planting Prayer

Alone in the tree-lined chapel
of this field of living things
that wait to bless and heal me,
let me create an altar of green.

Seeking mercy for my dormant heart,
let me sink my knees into damp dirt,
lean like prayer over the work
of seed, sprout, sod.

Humbly, let me dig my fingers deep
to sift the soil, as if my winter hands
will die without the supplication
of planting a new season.

May the hymns of sun and wind,
quiet my fears so I can hear
the sweet music of new ideas
suddenly freed to grow.

Let my bent back become a sign
of my Spring covenant, oh, God:
that I might yet be a good gardener
of the heaven I have been given on Earth.



« Return to Home | View Archives