Monday, July 13, 2015

The Master Gardener

The Master Gardener toils with the soil
Gardening gloves, a sun visor and pruning shears, her constant companions
Her hands pull the weeds from the already dead square-foot garden
Remnants of a tomato plant and basil deep below

What remains, a fresh canvas of possibilities
The tiniest seed is planted and covered up in great faith
A sprinkle of water and a healing touch to begin
A new crop
A season of waiting yields a small, green leaf that brings great joy

The gardener’s eyes ever keen as she turns and inspects the harvest
Careful to remove anything that will choke and devour
Her fingers smell of sweet basil and green beans
The gift of growing that will feed many
The gift of peace that comes
As soon as her hands touch the dirt

Each garden tells a story, of love and friendship
Moments of great joy
And seeds sown with tears

Each patch planted leaves behind
Evidence of her time there
A constant reminder
Of the lives she affects
Ever pointing upward
To the Master Gardener Himself

Dedicated to Angela McGowan Barnard


  1. Beautiful and honoring a lovely person by a beautiful soul. So happy to call you both friend.

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  3. I still cannot read this without crying. Love the photo of me and Jack.

  4. Lovingly written, so lovely. How do I sign up to follow your blog Giana?

    1. Thank you so much, Debbie! I am new to this whole blogging thing, so I'm not sure how to follow one, but I will look into it! For now, I will friend you on Facebook so you can see whenever I post. I really appreciate your support! :)

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