XXXIX

Three cords from my body
The first is love
The second, truth
The third is light

Like a child, I sit cross-legged as I braid
Working the fibers between my fingers
They polish my hands and smooth my skin

I am weaving a path for that which moves me forward
Too often disguised as steps

XXXIX

XXXVIII

Gardener, dreamer
You are not yet a master & you work with the sun
Planning in time & nurturing this earth

We watch you, all who live here
We see your back bend & your brow glisten & we are thankful

Thankful that you water & wait & prune & grow
This landscape as none other would

You, gardener, are love & light

XXXVIII