The Garden is Burning
For a long time now
a fire has been burning in my mind
a flood has rolled across my heart
an earthquake rumbles in my soul.
I am afraid it is breaking,
this world of ours,
how could it not?
It bears so much weight
the weight of sadness,
the weight of fear,
the weight of pain.
Last week in Greece
a two thousand year old
Olive Tree,
an elder, ancient and wise in ways we cannot even begin to know,
burned,
as people fled the lands
that fed them and us for ages untold.
The trees don’t get to leave.
Here in Ireland we smile
and take pictures of a Walrus,
a prince of the cold kingdom,
now an exile, lost, wandering, alone,
iceless, friendless, bewildered by boats.
In Siberia, the tundra burns and mammoth bones have their slumbering rest disturbed
long thought safe and sleeping by the peoples who live and love upon the frosted lands.
In Afghanistan, a wordless groan erupts,
the pain of a tortured soul,
the ache of a land so long in agony
its voice is near a death rattle
despair of a people fearing a veil being drawn over their faces, a stifling of song, an ending of hope, a blanket of hate, and loss, and loss, and loss, and betrayal.
In Haiti, earthquakes again.
In Lebanon, explosions again.
In America, fires again.
In Turkey, floods again.
My litany is nowhere near complete…
Lord have mercy.
The world is breaking.
How could it not?
What was meant as garden
needs its gardeners,
needs us to be Adams, gardeners, again;
needs us to be Eves, mothers of life, again;
that was the original blessing after all;
to grow, to steward, to bring forth life,
to bless, to give thanks, to guard and keep
all that lives, all that breathes, all that is.
So what must I do?
What can you do?
Be a gardener.
Now,
right where you are.
Dig.
Dig deep within,
Dig over the hard soil of the heart
that cannot bear to hear anymore
and let it breathe again original blessing.
Plant seeds of kindness.
Plant seeds of compassion.
Plant seeds of love.
Water it with your tears for all beings who suffer.
Grow a harvest of tenderness for those who suffer
Grow flowers of welcome for the lost and the lonely
Grow the fruit of peace in yourself and offer it to all beings to eat.
Act with reverence for all that is,
for all that is, is holy.
Allow that little plot of life
and earth around you to heal.
It will spread.
Remember we are all sons of Adam
Remember we are all daughters of Eve
Hear again the song of sister Mother Earth
Sing again the hymn of creation
Be again, blessing
Be again, the gardener,
Be at last the steward.
Be.
