In the Garden of Consistency

In the Garden of Consistency
the Holy Man is caretaker  
his house has no gate, no alarm
to warn him of those who might take
what he already decided to give

In robbers and thieves, he sees himself
he hands out coins and wisdom
enabling with gifts; breaking with mercy

He does not suppress the symphony of others,
emboldening tongues that shake the heavens
an offense to those
who has named their garden Perfection

He ignores the arguments of the righteous
doesn’t give political opinion
he himself is a refugee
waiting for his homeland

35 years of marriage
this Holy Man’s nose is crooked
at dawn
his wife sings in the garden

Those who live by the law of self
are blind to his nature
he is no storm, but a drip
his labor is unseen, deep in the soil
his life is the planting of seeds
and the harvests of glory