The loam - tugs at my being,

It calls, it holds me,
Grounded, set apart and free.

I am a Gardener,
In my fibres - in my being,
It tells me.

In this rolling season,
Of sunshine, wind and rain.
The soil - comforts, reasures me,
That I am a Gardener,
Set apart and free.

The simple, stark, reality,
Of cold clean rain,
And the heat of the day,
Elements that wash me clean.

On early mornings,
The earth - tugs at my being,
It teaches me, saying:
“Slow down - breathe - remain”,
“In your heart - you are free”,
“You are a Gardener!”,
My son,
“You are a Gardener!”,
To me.