Growing Pains (Draft 3.5)

God put Adam in the garden and told him to work it
But my success rate with green things is zero.
Flowers delight me but shrink from my touch. So, ‘fallen,
I hunker down, hand hovering ‘til I find what I’m looking for.

Spade abandoned, I click the pen, and plant letters instead.
In their own time (with only the slightest nudge from me),
Nouns and verbs erupt rudely onto thumb-worn pages,
Hungrily scrabbling along faster than I can fathom!

I fumble for pruning shears and marvel at the textual tenacity
Of these little wonders. What the heck do I do now?!
Clip-clicking away I hack back the jungle spilling out in all directions.
I trim and I twist stubborn syllables into shape until slowly…

Tentatively… tranquillity emerges from mayhem and I pause –
Ink-smudged but temporarily triumphant.
Row upon row of words roll out in front of me, some delicately placed,
Others haphazardly (nervously) filling in space.

Degree by degree what I see lines up with my heart-vision,
Heart-longing: the haven I crave to create just for you.
I ache to make a space where fragile hope (fluttering wings and all)
Dares to settle and suckle sweet nectar in peace;

A refuge from barbed-wire-darts that fling and find their mark.
I invite you, shivering, to come in out of the cold.
Hands trembling, we extract the quills, and your brow-furrows soften
As balm-lyrics sink in and soothe you to sleep.

Yet those words – my words – now swelling to leak comfort,
Could so easily slip jagged and slice you deep without ever breaking skin.
I fear the day I watch you close the gate behind you, tears watering letters,
Red ink soaking into dust, crying out over excruciating silence.

Tonight though, I blink away fear and experiment with love,
However imperfectly. Hope tucks itself in and sighs…

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