The early morning sun Just midway in the sky Showers my garden with translucent light. The green vines and leaves Glow, Sparkle Energized. The Spirit flows through the green Leaves and vines and stems, Nurturing By the sun's light and the earth's water. Green tomatos hang on their vines The weather gnome measuring the rain, Lost in their stems bearing Big boys, plumes, and cherries, Awaiting to be red and yellow. A corner for weeds hides Heather's squirrel That dubious king of thieves. And right by, Queen Mab sits on her wooden pot, Invited by love, Sweet and young, Her insect wings spread. To Sing to the Spirit to nurture and mature the garden. The Spirit turns the leaves towards the nourishing sun. Soaking in the sun's soul Radiating light Joining the watery nourishment inside Until buds appear And blooms, small and white, open Dropping off to reveal the green fruit Warming in the sun's soul. The mushroom gnome, dear friend, Guarded by his mushrooms Guards Virginia's yellow tomatos Her spirit watching over them. A tomatillo bush is just shedding its blooms Revealing small buds wrapped in green layers, A mysterious, new offering of immigrant soul. Green peppers, trusted and reliable are ready for the salad And egg plants just now are appearing under their blooms Both givers of taste and nutrients In the great cosmic web of need and care. The lettuce has gone to seed next to Italian chicory, brussel sprouts, and kale in full leaf, Wrapping around the corner, Hiding the shadow fairy Harbinger of the Otherworld. The butterfly hanger stands high, Carrying a planter full of pepper seedlings And Juci's red tear drop Of sweet nutrient for the unseen humming bird. Behind, green beans still bloom and sprout After their Spring crop, Long and bulging. In their midst, The crescent moon smiles Enclosing the earth, A channel for the Otherworld. There's a row for nature unhindered to grow wild Flox, tiny lavender petals hidden in the weeds Nasturtium, little golden trumpets Almost loss in the marigolds, And tall airy bachelor buttons, spokes of purple petals. Tucked away in tall and short Spidery and leafy weeds Smart weed with purple granula pedals All overarching marigolds and begonas. Over all stand watchful An old faded, falling apart straw man And his friend the scarecrow Like Oz unfearful to Rummaging crows and squirrels. Far in the back two exiled tomato men Hang upside down On the swing, Swaying in the wind, Leaves turned to the sun, Fruit ripening, as promised. All awaiting mother and daughter, Bent over in the sun's soul, To harvest the fruit Of my labor Of the fairy's blessing For salads and soups.
©2009 John A. Mills