You cling tightly to seeds
that are trying in anguish
to sprout between fingers
strangled by your clutch
they perish before they are given
the chance to blossom,
my love, don’t you see that
seeds can’t germinate in palms
that are greedy for control?
Relinquish the desire for power,
surrender to the process of growth,
trust in the sun and her soil
for she is the giver of life,
she knows how to yield crops
and wild flowers
through her seasons
nurturing from afar
without the need for constraint,
my love, won’t you look and see
that a garden can only be birthed by
hands who have the courage to first,
let go.