Good Intentions

Bought fresh from the garden nursery,
Tucked into tiny beds;
Rows of gold and violet,
Perked up their eager heads.

Anticipating a brand new home,
Where they might burrow deep;
A better place than the cramped, confining,
Cubicles they keep.

A place whence gently tended,
And cared for they might grow;
Into the blossoms God designed,
In His plan long ago.

And so they waited patiently,
The caring hands to place;
Each in his little corner,
Of sun, of soil, of grace.

But such joy soon turned to sorrow,
As the days passed one by one;
They hung their withering heads to die,
Abandoned in the sun.

For though bought with good intentions,
The time was never found;
To plant the fragile blossoms,
Deep into solid ground.

As it is with those who ponder,
Yet never make a way;
To tend the garden of the heart,
That Christ does sow today.

This poem won first place for the September 2007 poetry contest