Gardeners know they are not always going to succeed.

They depend on undependable forces to meet the garden’s need.

Too much or too little rain interferes with their success.

Too high or too low a wind can create great distress.

Too soft or too hard an animal’s tread

can destroy an entire garden bed.

Gardeners are not well kept.

Covered in mud or drenched by errant hoses,

they kneel on dirt and scrub off mulch from shredded gloves.

They look like weeds themselves

as they hoe and  and bag the uncomfortable drudge.

They know the garden they view serves as judge.

There are no debates in gardens. 

Debates serve no purpose for the gardener.

Only those who watch and stand aside and wait

feel free to judge the gardener’s flair.

They judge the gardener while breathing in fragrant air

the plants have cleaned.

They judge the gardener while relaxing on paths

the gardener’s feet have cleared.

They judge the gardener while eating crops

the gardener grew in fertile raised beds.

They stay clean while the gardener struggles to remain

on tired feet mired in mud so deep he moves more slow

at a pace they complain is way too slow.

And yet, the gardener in his wisdom carries on

to feed the spirits and bodies of those who watch his work

and share in the bounty of his grace.

Could they even try to keep apace

with the many tasks a gardener must face?

Joe, you have made our garden grow

into a thing of beauty because of all you know.

I know you cannot always compete with liars who berate

your efforts while they stand and smirk with hate.

You may not always look good these trying days.

But, you are beautiful to me in every way.

Stay in the garden of truth where weariness darkens night

and may not be pretty, but grows a garden of delight.