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by Lisa Franich Lee
I used to plant in neat rows, but
these last few years, it grows into
a bit of a mess.
And not all of it is meant to be eaten.
Some blooms are just for beauty and
for attracting the ladybugs.
I’m so glad when the ladies arrive!
Some things that I plant draw me down low
and make me examine and wonder.
I puzzle and question
as if it were sport
until my puzzler grows sore and I cry,
“Uncle!”
Best just to stomp it all into the soil anyway.
It’s essential, you know
to add my sweat and toil,
carrying the sacks of dirt and fertilizer
and to break the surface by hand and
mix it all in with the questions and the suffering and the joy
and ask, “Why me God?” and then finally,
“Who? Me God?”
It’s funny the way that I garden now–
letting the food and the flowers and the weeds
all grow together.
I only pull the weeds if they crowd out
the Sun.
No need to stress about the weeds.
Others come to my garden and wonder,
“What did you plant?”
And so I try and show them, but secretly
I have no idea what’s growing in this space
since I was too tired to label it.
But when it finally does grow and blooms
then I’ll know what comes next.