The Gardener
I cling to clods,
I dally in dirt.
I dig up the sod
And wait for God
To perform the miracle
Of seed to plant.
I work in the sun,
The cold and the rain;
Inclement weather
I do not disdain.
From dirty fingers
I do not refrain.
I witness a miracle:
Every day,
The miracle of life
Is on display.
When it’s time to plant,
I do not delay.
Such wondrous things
Do I perceive:
The seed, the seedling,
The first new leaf.
Continually the new thing grows;
When it will stop, only God knows.
Amazing thing,
That on its own,
The seed into a plant has grown.
clarakatalin 
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