my body, my garden

if I’m 

going to bloom 

at all in this 

little life 

I’ll have 

to believe 

my body 

a garden 

the interface 

between 

what’s within 

and what’s out  

the place 

where what is 

planted in my depths 

through toil 

and tending 

and watering 

with love 

may just 

one day 

tear 

through the surface 

and unfurl in 

the sunlight

if I’m going 

to bloom at all 

in this life – 

I must believe 

my body.  

my body:

the soil 

of my soul 

the source 

of my substance 

the place 

of my 

participation 

the flower bed of my life 

the perfect plot, 

no matter its shape or size 

to plant something beautiful 

and to watch something grow. 

my body,

the only place 

I have to let 

anything 

bloom at all.

I’ll go grab the shovel

to dig a bit deeper 

into the dirt of my life 

to resurrect the things I’ve buried 

to confront the thorny weeds

to plant the seeds of something new 

to tend to what’s soft and new 

to protect what is vulnerable 

and to love even those patchy places that aren’t quite ready yet

for something new to grow 

maybe 

just 

maybe 

between your 

flowers 

and mine

together 

we can gradually 

make the world 

a more beautiful place 

after all.