The Garden

In loving memory of my Father
 Harry L. Unland Jr.

The Garden

Walking now along the rows, sensing life within the ground,
Up from down does life spread out, quietly, without a sound.
Heat comes now to parch and dry the very air they breathe,
But always when they need it most the rain does moisten leaves.
*
Time goes by and the autumn ends, with ripeness in the wind,
The garden gives up all its life, while the fragrance starts to end.
Ground now hardens in the cold and frost does chill the air,
As each and every living thing goes dormant with my prayer.