Like ships passing in the night

I lost sight of you a long while ago 

In the ocean of life

I no longer hear your foghorn cry

Forlorn as it goes by

Only the breeze greets me

Saltily

In the dark glow 

Of midnight.

gardener

She was never much of a gardener, but she sings to trees

Learns their names like prayers, in the fall collects the golden leaves

When the rain is cold and the day is night

A fire at her feet

They found a way to grow

A two-thousand year old seed

This is what hope looks like

Believing in life endlessly believing in life

Everyone told her to look for the land of milk and honey

Honking cars, burning money, casual catastrophes

How good or evil is the praying mantis or the honeybee?

She was never much of a gardener, but she sings to trees

They found a way to grow

A two-thousand year old seed

This is what hope looks like

Believing in life endlessly believing in life

Out her window there’s a maple and I know

Down in Virginia by the road her friend’s river birch grows

In the bed mixed with the reeds

The roots whisper from tree to tree

She may not understand, but she is always listening

They found a way to grow

A two-thousand year old seed

This is what hope looks like

Believing in life endlessly believing in life

They found a way to grow

A two-thousand year old seed

This is what hope looks like

Believing in life endlessly believing in life

Believing in life endlessly believing in life

She was never much of a gardener, but she sings to trees