Oct 2018
She spent her life
On her knees.
Praying?
No, cursing.
Her hands ached,
Her fingers bled.
Her life’s mission
To organize
All things that grew.
She cursed the weeds…
Pulled them,
Tore them,
Sought to destroy them.
Everywhere…
The garden,
The yard,
Even in the fields of crops.
Her back was bent,
Her shoulders ached,
Her hands,
Gnarled and twisted.
And?
The weeds came back.
I think they mocked her,
Saying:
“We bloom too!”
Think of the good
Your hands can do
When they are NOT
Driven
By the shallow nature
Of your judgments.
On her knees.
Praying?
No, cursing.
Her hands ached,
Her fingers bled.
Her life’s mission
To organize
All things that grew.
She cursed the weeds…
Pulled them,
Tore them,
Sought to destroy them.
Everywhere…
The garden,
The yard,
Even in the fields of crops.
Her back was bent,
Her shoulders ached,
Her hands,
Gnarled and twisted.
And?
The weeds came back.
I think they mocked her,
Saying:
“We bloom too!”
Think of the good
Your hands can do
When they are NOT
Driven
By the shallow nature
Of your judgments.
Ruby was not a villain, she just had flaws as we all do. I have been away from writing for a while, perhaps to just heal my grieving and adjust to my loneliness. Thank God for good hands to hold.
