poem: a gardener like me

i long
for god to make a garden
of my heart
to turn it into a
growing, blooming, fruitful –useful-
place

loving hands immersed in its
soft soil
massaging it, picking out
the stones – those
all-pervasive impediments to growth;
passionately carving their way
through the closed cage of my ribs and into
the secret interior of my soul
opening up long furrows upon its
too-smooth surface deep enough
to find its tender places;
expertly, carefully, planting
each seed
one by one
gently and eagerly encouraging it to
take root and rise up!

i envision this gardener
approaching my heart-bed joyfully in anticipation
each and every day
to water the seeds;
crouching closely – hoping
to witness the first sign of growth
whispering and
singing come out!
come out, my loves!
arise!
dancing and
clapping her hands in delight
at each new green sliver of
life - yes!

yes.

i want my heart to feel like this
i want my god to be like this
-a gardener like me.