The Neighbor’s Vegetables (a poem)

The neighbor talks to me as she tends her vegetable garden –

she talks at me is more like it; I hardly get a word in, you see.

She says, “All Lives Matter;” I bite my tongue,

let her ramble, not knowing what’s bouncing in that brain.

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Wild Gardens (a poem)

The wild gardens in our neighborhood grow onto sidewalks

weeds choke out flowers in front of beautiful homes

near the synagogue we wish to visit whenever

this virus stuff is over –

wild gardens, with daisies and wildflowers

that remind me of your wild spirit + ceaseless bravery.

(Photo by Scott Webb on Unsplash)

Tree of Knowledge

How can you know what perfect harmony is if you’ve never suffered?

It was like that for Adam and Eve, as they strolled through the Garden, bathing in sunlight and fresh air, at peace with all creatures.

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In the Garden (a poem)

In the garden, I dig my hands into the cool,

dark soil and pull out weeds – it feels so good

to connect with our Mother. The sun is shining

and I can smell the rosebush near the shed,

reminding me not all is lost, that when

we’re all gone, there will be peace again.

(Photo by Ricardo Resende on Unsplash)

Demon in the Garden (a photo)

If you’ve visited my blog before, you may recognize this picture. I took it in late 2018 during a little adventure Rachel and I took in the Old City neighborhood of Philadelphia. It’s one of my favorite photos that I’ve taken from the past few years.

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Swing Bench (a poem)

Sometimes I think of my soul as though it were a tree
Standing tall, reaching for the sun
The sun rises, the sun sets
Each day is the same
But then you came along, my gardener
You trimmed the parts that were too heavy to hold
You made adjustments to make me grow stronger
You set a foundation around my trunk
To keep me upright and strong
You made it beautiful with flowers and a pond full of koi
You placed a swing bench near by
Where you could sit and admire your work
When you are gone, I still grow strong toward the sun
But I miss giving you shade while you read under me
The days pass and it feels like a never ending winter
You will come back, as sure as the sun, with its warmth
You’ll once again shape me to grow better and stronger