The Garden of Faith
Strength has a way of inching itself
into existence—first, the seedling,
vulnerable, and then the stem.
Soon enough a plant is flowering,
rooted, and offering itself to the intensity of the sun.
Such things are beauties uncontrollable, almost.
Even the threatening storm quenches a thirst,
even the predator offers new life
in return for what it takes to eat.
Yes, there is an offering beyond all this, beneath.
The earthen roots dig deep into foundation,
clenching what is needed most, what is so often overlooked.
Here, in the dirt, resides a variety of truth.
Each shrub is an expression of that on which it feeds,
and soil, and damp, and feces feed the root.