The Gardener Tends the Sleeping Flowers
By
Jennifer Angelina Petro
The gardener moves in the darkness among the flowers
And bushes in the cemetery of caves and stones–
Who does that? Who gardens by the light of the moon?
Who touches the closed faces and hands
And whispers blessings upon them?
Who prunes unnecessary branches as if baptizing a child?
Who bends down, robe of golden threads mixing with the earth,
And pulls weeds from around the herbs and succulents?
Who sculpts the soil of the roses?
Who tends the nests of sparrows while at the same time
Looks for you?
The one who walks among the graves.
The one who sees your beauty in the shadows.
The one who turns towards you
Even when you do not recognize him.
The one who removes the hood of his cloak,
And calls you by name.
