Random Seeds

If I Was a
Gardener –

I’m Not, but
I’ll Show You
my Wrinkled
Poetic License –

Perhaps You’ll
Let Me In.

If I Was a
Gardener
and I Found
an Envelope
with a
Palmful of
Random
Seeds,

Perhaps I’d
Strew Them in
a Hidden Corner of
My Rose Garden.

I’d Feed Them,
Water Them,
Watch Them

with Curious Eyes.

But I Wouldn’t
Weed Them, or
Otherwise Judge Them.

I’d Love to
Paint Them –

I’m Not a Painter,
But Here’s That Wrinkled
Poet’s License.

Perhaps You’ll Love
the Random Beauty of
Roses
Twined with
Carrot Tops
Adorned by
Ferns
Being Climbed by
Dandelions
Being Embraced by
Whatever Those Are.

I’m Hearing That
The Creator
Adores

Our Wild Painting.

And It’s Not Even
Finished Yet.

(Photo by Dimmis Vart; UnSplash)