The Garden & The Gardener - Two Poems
- by Kathleen Jamie -
What little I know
of the way of the world
-- scarce anything.
There's mystery in my own back green
-- especially in my own back garden!
spangling the plum tree
the woodstack's shade,
the way a peanut-holder judders
when a speug's just flown --
and as for these daisies
encamped all over the grass
-- same as last week's, last year's, same
yet not identical
to those I gazed at as a girl
candid and undemanding
all receiving their share
- by Mary Oliver -
Have I lived enough? Have I loved enough? Have I considered Right Action enough, have I come to any conclusion? Have I experienced happiness with sufficient gratitude? Have I endured loneliness with grace?
I say this, or perhaps I’m just thinking it. Actually, I probably think too much.
Then I step out into the garden, where the gardener, who is said to be a simple man, is tending his children, the roses.