Living, sitting, plants?
She sits in her garden to stare at the trees to cope with life
She sits restless for moments
Stares up at the trees to focus in, to really see the colors
She tries to sip her latte slowly
take in each rich sip
She wants to bleed into the trees
to undress and bathe in the air
Somehow leaving behind the cravings of this world
how to untangle herself from the mess
from the weeds that stick around good
that try to become one with her
She looks at her garden and sees the goodness of God
the brilliance of growth
from a little seed
that one days sprouts roots and flowers and fruit
one day there’s nothing and then there’s something
she notices the miracle that this is
how could she not believe there’s a God
One who’s brilliant beyond science
and human hands
Who’s breath and word does all the work
who gives everything meaning and tangibility
no one else could such a brilliant thing
Don’t you tell me there isn’t a God
the plants are telling me something different