The Garden
The Garden
Happy Buddha
Always on my mind
Weeding thoughts that don’t mean
Anything at all
A great big nothing I recall
The seeds we planted in the fall
Are sprouting
Buddy Jesus
Golden as the sun
With the kingdom of heaven
In a mustard seed
Oh the simple truths of love indeed
But the youthful martyrs they do bleed
Your glory
And in the garden we shall dance
To the rhythm of a trance
Amidst the bounty of our thoughts
And the fruits they bear do taste
Of the passions we have sought
By the fashions of our haste
Won’t you have a bite
You might think that you are naked
You might feel a little flushed
And embarrassed at the thought
But hey, its not that bad
Just the apple of a seed
Happy Buddha
And Buddy Jesus
In the Garden
Photography by Penny Slinger