Heavenly Earth
At 77, he’s feeling,
free to plant
whatever he desires,
free to create a world
he’ll not see mature,
free to be the all-father
of his environment,
free to be the seeds, the mulch,
the water, sun and shade,
even as he knows he’ll miss
the ultimate harvest,
still pruning and weeding,
still talking to his seedlings,
thinking of Saint Francis, who,
when asked what he might do
if he knew it was his last day of life, said
he’d finish raking the garden.
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