tmbt: nasturtium seed in my heart
A little patch of land. A tree, old and tall and sweet and shading. A lump of rock poking it’s cheeks up from the ground for a little sun, little shade, little breeze, little break from the stream running under it. A sunny patch in the northeast corner patiently batting its eyes for a garden. Swings already swaying. Ghosts of future children and lovers laughing. Bending, sipping, whispering “here it is”. It is all here in the little patch of land. A patch covered in little round, green and greener landing pads for these dreams we barely dare give voice to in the shadow of this tender week. But I do. I say and I pray. And then back to the city I go with a little dug out piece of the patch, of the green landing pads that will offer to the sun a little handful of edible orange flowers, buds of joy grown from an arm grown from a little most beautiful nasturtium seed in my heart.
Photo from Gwinnett Master Gardeners.