In my garden, I let her plant
a seed in a random spot
amongst the blooms, soon to be.
She would neither show me the seed
nor the general area she placed it,
but she made me promise
not to dig it up.

I could go searching
but it would kill the seed to rip it from
its earthy womb too early.
So I try not to think of the seed
even as I’m unable to forget its presence.
Temptation always pressing
but in the resistance, light.

I tend my little garden and this
precious patch of dirt
made sacred
by a good friend’s touch,
comfort in a promise
that as the days are good and bad
something beautiful is soon to bloom.