Sometimes it’s just nice to sit. To watch the play on sunlight on the leaves as the wind gently blows them. To hear the birds sing, the cackle of my hens as another one announces that she had laid an egg. To watch the butterfly taste each flower it finds.

Sometimes it nice to imagine what the garden will be like in twelve months or two years or ten.

Sometimes it is nice to plan the next stage of the garden, where I will put plants, will that tree grow and florish in that position, what climbers, shrubs, roses and flowers do I need.

Sometimes it’s just nice to sort out the packets of seeds ready for the vegetable garden.

All the time, it is nice to have a small boy curl up in my lap, give me a great big cuddle and say “I love you Mom”.

Sometimes it is nice to look at nothing, yet to look at everything individually.

Sometimes it’s just nice to sit……….

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You alone pick up my pieces
The things I have left behind
In the deep wells of my soul
Forgotten and dry

From the depths you call them out
With just a word they come
Flickers of Hope are stirred
At the sound of your voice

The broken heaps of tattered life
Lay before you weighed with shame
But then you breathe, and life flows in
In awe before you I am whole

I was not made for this ruin
So Your blood has made the way
You were broken just for me
There’s healing in Your hands

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You wonder where it’s going
But the wind will never tell
Its journey is its own
Though you may partake
Through the willow branches
Encircled round the rose
Tip your ear to listen
There is truth on the wind
Your hand may not grasp it
Your eye may not see
The heart knows its song
It calls
It draws
It whispers
Let your soul learn the music
As you join in this dance