Night Vision

I entered the garden,
Late evening,
Through a vine covered arbor,
Expecting to see tomorrow's expectations
Blooming on yesterday's experience
Where they belong.
I knew where I was headed,
I was confident and sure,
Almost insistent.
Rows were straight
Fences were well mended.

I wanted to believe a pumpkin seed
Always bears a pumpkin flower.
I went on innocently believing,
Insisting, until the storm,
Believing I was a pumpkin seed.

The destruction was complete,
Now the trellis glows
Over broken stalks,
The moon flower radiates
Bluish light over withering truth.
New and unexpected fears
Present their scarlet heads for tending,
Yesterday's knowledge is
Of little help.
The richness of my garden
Is breathtaking and
Tangible, the aroma
Of rotting fruit and earth
And uncertain renewal
Goes to my head.

All I have hope of knowing
Is the ground I am standing on.
I find myself mouthing,
Somewhat against my will,
Yes, God, yes that is enough,
I will study the ground.