Garden Lessons: A Poem

I came to the garden to listen

to the wisdom of the plants:

their silence deeply rooted,

well-nourished in patience and sun. 

I came to feel the margins

to sit in the empty spaces

to learn to wait, content,

and hopeful for tomorrow. 

But I never leave empty-handed,

my teacher giving last lectures

in basil blossoms (soft white, hungry petals)

and last minute advice in tomato stem scent. 

To learn the lessons of the garden

I must come daily on quiet feet

with a spirit full or empty, it doesn't matter,

but supple and always leaning in.