The Garden of Sweetness
“Every leaf-scar is a bud expecting a future.” ~Gillian Clarke, “The Year’s Midnight”
Christie Purifoy writes, “I am created from dirt. How right and good it is, then to kneel in this garden temple and sing songs of praise. To see and name…A song of Brandywine tomatoes and French Breakfast radishes. Of mini bell peppers in orange and red and chocolate brown. Of cucumbers for pickling. I sing of Red Flame lettuce, peppery arugula, and dill seeds cast across one bed. This is the oldest song in the world. And it is new every spring.”
With spring came hope and possibility for me this year. I would tend the land. I would place flowers and seeds, tiny tomato plants, and tree saplings. Each one, a grand experiment, really, but with hope for what might be. I am heeding a call I can’t explain, but can live into.
None of it looks like much right now. Mostly just a small effort toward beauty, an intentional movement toward life. Where there was empty space, now there is possibility. Now there is a dream. I can claim it mine, but that would not be the whole truth. The garden, after all, is of earth and sun, of rain and prayers. I can only hold a thread of hope, tend as I know how, and leave the rest to God.
