My Garden in Spring

My garden in spring is a wonderful place to meditate

and brood

and meditate

and wonder

I trudge by beds of visiting dandelion, clover, and deer tracks.

Soaked by intermittent rain;

warmed by sun rays poking holes through the mist.

Daydreaming about unread and unsent emails and

a gathering of tomatoes, carrots and peas

nourishing my community of

humans and caterpillars, and  
I prick my fingers, on thorny canes
soon to fruit candy-like raspberries,

remembering the fragility and transience of

human life; All life.

Breathing in, breathing out

the ancestral human longing

for peace,

for harmony
with myself

and every other species
wells up inside.

Joy.

Stinging nettle   
and soothing plantain side by side, embracing,
revitalizing
the axiom that for every wound
is a leaf to heal it.

And for every moment of bondage

embraced with equanimity

is

a moment of release.