The Gardener

He’s a steady sort, the gardener. 
Life has its demands, of course, 
And, as much as he would like to be - 
He can’t be there all the time. 
But year on year, season by season, 
Without reminder or fanfare,
He proves with faithful dependability 
That giving his watchful care 
Is not so much something that he does
As simply who he is.

Attentus Fidelis

Attentive and Faithful. 

He’s wise too.
He loves the growing seasons,
Glorying in their flourishing abundance,
Finding humble satisfaction in witnessing the fruits of his care. 
But he does understand
That this is a seasonal gig;
That deaths and die-backs are part of the deal. 
Will he panic when they come?
Of course not. 
Will he give up? 
Unthinkable! 
He’ll just do what he can to help
And wait, 
With a calm but sure hope,
That spring will come again.

Lucky for me, 
Gardeners make great Dads. 

               ___
Fathers' Day, 2019