In this garden called me, myself and I
No wonder the cavalry stands down
That water wanders away from sight
Clouds block sun from reaching down
Or better yet the fruit from reaching up
In this garden of soil so pure
Traces of seeds uninvited
Weeds that just go to root
Pulled upon or ignored they grow
A weed’s strength crowds and shadows
The light for fruit bearing, sustaining
So why allow weeds to feed among fruit?
Wind is never still except in battle
Where even breath takes a holiday
Where the mind can alter reality
Like a dream the action is surreal
The eyes of the enemy watch for retreat
Generals’ sterile views bellow in bedlam
Yet order prevails, lines in the sand stand
The garden asks for a cool drink
As a gentle rain begins in earnest
Quietly nature continues its work
On the battle field, as dawn breaks
Fresh smells as morning awakes
Deer run and panthers pace the night
As balance is weighed out again
Mystery, misery and triumph live
In this garden, we still walk with God
HIS House
All rights reserved
Leave A Comment