One Single Afternoon

I look at myself in the bathroom mirror and I wonder
if You've made any progress with me.
I know You must be the loyallest Gardener. I need You
to prove that, because one single afternoon
can set me wild, wilted,
half rotted. Clip, tend, water me into pure abundance.
Abundance. I like the "dance" in that word. {Parts of today were
so low I had to sing
to fight it + Patrick's Breastplate is a You-send =
then I got so mellow & content. What precious friends You've
given me}.

Goodness often looks like bright plastic fruit. Help me  s  m  e  l  l
the aroma of Your table. Hot-diggity-believe it. Work up/with appetite.
Wake up the sleepy spirit in me,
answer my prayers in the ugliest hours.
Feed me like a baby bird (I'd like to fitintoYousnugly,

to crow

with love over

every good thing).