
Packets of seeds are starting to arrive,
which may never grow,
in the mail from companies
with greater gardening skills than I.
Buying seeds is a hopeful sign
that my pained leg might soon be fine.
Perhaps one day my knee can bend again
to plant my treasured seeds in fertile soil
and I can return to lovingly toil
among plants that are my dearest friends.
For now, they sit untended on my kitchen counter.
They sit and they wait, then wait some more
for longer, warmer days filled with sunlight;
and, for a leg which can stretch and move
painlessly and endlessly to plant more seeds
than this world may ever need
to make peace and beauty thrive,
among earthlings happy to be alive.
The seeds sit and wait for better days.
As do I. As do I. As do I.