The Gardener’s Roses
by Michael R. Burch

Mary Magdalene, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, “Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away.”

I too have come to the cave;
within: strange, half-glimpsed forms
and ghostly paradigms of things.
Here, nothing warms

this lightening moment of the dawn,
pale tendrils spreading east.
And I, of all who followed Him,
by far the least . . .

The women take no note of me;
I do not recognize
the men in white, the gardener,
these unfamiliar skies . . .

Faint scent of roses, then—a touch!
I turn, and I see: You.
My Lord, why do You tarry here:
Another waits, Whose love is true?

Although My Father waits, and bliss;
though angels call—ecstatic crew!—
I gathered roses for a Friend.
I waited here, for You.

NOTE: I do not believe in Jesus as a “sacrifice” to a primitive “god” who demands the blood of innocents in order to “forgive” sins of his own making through a ghoulish "atonement." But I will not completely discount the hope that love can transcend death, although, like Thomas, I will have to see it to believe it. Keywords/Tags: Jesus, Christ, cave, grave, tomb, gardener, roses, angels, resurrection, Mary, Magdalene, love, heaven

The gardener from thee-
a meager seed and humble need
a leaf within his reach
The spell enclosed,
apricot and peach.
Pineapple in bloom
No rose
No jessamine
Symbols of all interposed
With a flower so sweet,
like a blue eye
the gardener sighs.

"this Plant, is not mine."

focused praying mantis still as a stick
clueless prey three times its size-
best friend of gardeners

A gravekeeper by trade
burying the dead to stay alive
with a green thumb and *****
the unused earth oh how it strives!

Fat tubers and roots
green leaves with red veins
small vines sprouting fruits
even a small section for grains

The gravekeeper never goes hungry
his family never starves
he loves living in the country
and his plot of earth that he carves

One day two fresh dead
and a rat, maybe two scampered by
soon a sickness to be widespread
day by day how that multiplied!

More bodies into the earth
how did his garden shrink
he was crying and crying
this gravekeeper didn't know what to think!

Should he be happy for business
should he be sad for the loss
is he crying for his vegetables
or is he crying for the bodies that are tossed

Little by little did the green become stone
his loved ones feast on a diet of worms
now he, a lonely gardener of bones
sits and watches as his world burns

I don't know how much more
I can find trust ignoring the lore
That I keep on writing til my fingers are sore

This strange heavy book
with an even stranger look
that a stranger once took

I want to think
that it is full of insightful ink
giving me good reasons to always stay close to the brink

But when my heart grows fonder
today when I catch myself, ponder
my mind only recklessly starts to wonder

And I've been reckless before
my heart and soul given to a false poet who calls me a *****
it tinted my deepest thoughts, it might be blue forevermore

I'm an expert on overthinking
still can't help but drinking
Wonderland's poisons up til I'm shrinking

If I could only say
that on some distant day
I'd learned my lesson not to pray

For you can never know
maybe it's only the gardener, just a poet for show
beware of what he might sow

My garden is small
Think nothing at all
Vegetables here and there
No weeds to interfere with care
I water my vegetable plants, I keep them healthy
I give them sunlight, prove I'm wealthy
They grow as strong as can be
Surely they're grateful for my help, you see

My garden has flourished
But my status?
Malnourished.
My plants are strong, they bear great food
I ask politely, not to be rude
"O plants of mine, may you spare a meal?"
Ripe vegetables before me, 'tis quite the steal
As I come close, they begin to rot
Inedible food scattered all over my lot
My plants must've spoiled, surely the case
I buy new seeds, the old ones a disgrace

My garden has grown
New seeds have been sown
Water, sunlight, I should have known
These plants grow just like the last
Rotten vegetables, I am left to fast
Others approach, they find a feast
An untouched garden, abundant at the least
Carrots, Spinach, and Peas galore
Except for The Gardener, for which they abhor

My garden has forgotten
I thought they remembered
The help I have given them, I would never dismember
The stalks that I brought into life, caressed with care
But to not feed The Gardener, completely unfair
Starvation upon me, bitter with grief
"I dare not water you, may you lose every leaf."

My garden has betrayed
I ask for a meal
In return for my help, they leave me misdeal
Without my help, they continue to grow
Healthy and proud with others to show
The Gardener is left with no food to survive
"Rot in my garden, you do naught but connive."
I lay in the grass, my garden grow strong
As I lay separate, I did not belong
My vegetables feed all but me
The life I live, no longer a guarantee

My garden has taught
Me of devotion
I gave my life for your growth with great emotion
To not repay the bargain, I cannot see
Why you would choose to grow without me
Without The Gardener, you are healthy as ever
The debt of my help, the payment due never
Live as you would, proud and bold
But I simply ask;
"Do not leave my story untold."

(2017)

Bee is such hardworking
To comply the clover,
Reluctant to do in present;
Behold another flower!

Seemering on summer's call  
And all the leaves today,  
Honey is replenished  
Through Gardener's supply.



E.