Never covered in winter
Never watered
But for the whims of chance clouds
Never fed
But by the searchings of desperate roots
No cultured rose is this
And yet
And yes
This one is exquisite
Let us bring it
To our gardens
Giving color
Where before was only cultured foliage
We will find a place
For a wild flower
Let us take it to our gardens
We will find a place!
Michele Marie
Michele Marie's Poetry By The Fireside... 
enjoyable! now write the sequel-re the one that is taken and the one that stays. Can you really find “a place” for the one removed and taken to the “gardens”? Guy McClung
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Hey Guy, maybe you’re right…But all things are possible with God…
However,
St. Therese, the Little Flower, described herself a wildflower, and felt that those around her, the nuns, were roses in a cultured garden, but that she herself was not a cultured rose, less able and less cultured, and in her humility probably thought she was less everything.
But she was amazed that God brought her into his garden anyway…
Aren’t we all?
All that is required is a willing heart…
So often we don’t think we fit in, that we’re not good enough, but God loves our littleness, humility, our incapable-ness, our accidental failures, when we admit it–which is the hardest thing! He loves being our Father, and taking pity on his children…
But here is the follow up, just for you,
“…Yet He left Guy in his meadow
and tended to him there
loving His little wildflower
With its own enlightened flair…” 🙂
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Many thanks for the kind, insightful, and considerate thoughts. You may – yet again – be spot on. And now you have given me the spark to write something. Thank you. guy
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Awesome! Your writings are always thought provoking~
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Lovely poem, I do love wildflowers!!
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Thank you Francina!
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Hi Michele Marie,
I’ve read The Gardener many times now and I like it more with each reading. It calls us to authenticity and what Merton called (pun intended) “the ground of our own being”. It tells us that good heartfelt Catholic piety wont get the job done; rather, it is the inner groanings of the soul that yield blossoms that Jesus loves to gather. Wonderful poem! I’ve been away from writing but miss it terribly and want to enter that scary room again. I’ve got a poem going that has me totally stumped and wondered if you’d be so kind as to read it and point me a good direction- even if think that destination is the trash bin. If you don’t have time or interest, it is totally fine.
Hope all is well for you and your family Scott Warren
Sent from my iPad
>
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You’d be a great critic of poems- nice analysis! Not sure if I could help, but could try~
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