If my heart were a garden
I would blush pink with a peony
I would smile with a sunflower
lift my face to the sky like a daisy
and lay moist in the heat of the day
under the bench in the corner, in the shade.
There would be a cherub fountain with moss
and Ivy and ferns and tall pampas grass in a broken down urn.
If my heart was a garden, I would have to hide the tracks of years and tears
beneath the washing of the water by the gardener called Savior
I broke some hearts that need mending
fences need to come down. I would have a metal cross to remind me
every day that I am beautiful.
If I were a garden I would bloom with riotous colors
roses and Iris’s and dahlia’s and zinnia’s and delphiniums and lilacs
and baby’s breath and moss over rocks to soften my edges.
If I were a garden I would sigh in the morning light with the joy of the soil under my feet
Thankful for the curtain of light and the angel that bends down and picks me up when I can’t speak.
When my time is over on this earth, may those who loved me best come and sit among the labors of my heart and breathe in the scent of all that is good in me.