My Father’s Healing Garden

There is a peaceful place

Where God has touched the land,

He gave some seeds to dad;

Laid beauty in his hand

These seeds were put to rest

In rich and fertile ground

The fruits of his hard labor

Were prolific and profound

Now a riot of blossomed color

Meet these eyes of mine

This scene I see before me

Has been designed from the Divine

The garden is bathed in sunlight

There is sweetness in the air

The flowers are being kissed

By butterflies devoid of care

I watch them in their dance

The way they flutter on the breeze

And envy them their freedom

As they move with graceful ease

Is odd the way they knew

There were bruises on my heart

They hovered near to me;

As if reluctant to depart

It may be my imagination

Is something I can’t quite express

The butterflies whisper, “free your spirit,

Please, come and fly with us.”

There is a peaceful place

Where God has touch the land

I look around in awed amazement;

The place is where I stand.

©

Tonya Greenlee