From the Ditch to the Furrow

I never loved getting my hands dirty in the mud

Paradox, because that was where I was created from

Your way of showing even beautiful things can arise from dirt?

Between your love for me and me being created, which came first?

Was the garden being the first place also symbolic at best?

A deeper lesson , perhaps an obscure test

In my moments of searching for the meaning to all this

I am late in this course but the lesson? I am learning it

Being an overthinker means I do less but think more

Like leaving my garden unattended, hoping it would be magically restored

It is no wonder I could't stand its sight

Doing little and craving, from life, a long period of respite

So here I am , plough, push, and spades

This is the point where I harrow with rakes

My hand to perform what The Word did teach

This is better than the time when I dug myself into a ditch

The seeds you gave me, things I was meant to plant and nurture

Planting them this time, garden fenced and away from the lurcher

There are parts of me that I am not proud of , the list goes on

Weeding them out has been diffcult, their root, deep and strong

As my seeds grow, teach me the patience to wait

Surrounded me with seasoned farmers who see the errors lest it be too late

Teach me to appreciate even the little efforts I make to the garden laid

To appreciate the sunrise and the sunset of the day

It takes discipline to water the garden on days when drought reigns

Teach me how and I would gladly strike a rock on those days

When the harvest is ready, protect my heart from pride

Planting starts with a desire, Gardening is irrespective of a 1000 sighs