I love visiting her garden.
Shimmering rainbows of iris arc across
her lawn; all so delicate; all so
vibrant, so alive. Robust
fragility, stalwart proud atop their
spiky stems. Three lower petals bend
softly towards earth, gentle tongues that
speak a thousand languages and
voice majestic words to name
Creation Love through aeons of
time that brought them to this
moment of their shining.
Three upper petals fold gently inward,
silent touching, holy stillness,
trinity caress embracing mystery
And all the colors: pink and purple,
yellow and white, blue and dusky orange;
radiant array, mirroring all the
hues and bright diversity
tucked around our tiny planet as it
skips its way through murky space.
I love visiting her garden; no magical
pot of gold at the end of her rainbows, but
something far more precious—quiet
gaze into the Source of every color, every
tenderness, every delicate strength in
every garden, in every life.