I had come to see the scene,
A landscaped garden of green.
The fruit on the trees always
Hung heavy.
Grateful branches alive.
They'd sway when the wind did.

I had come to feel the sun,
Sugar coat my skin,
My toes pressed in warm earth
Like burrowing worms,
Comforted me safe,
They were dirty without apology.

I had come to expect a lot,
Unsure of what I'd sought,
But I meant to find it
And turned up empty handed
Hoped the sun would fill my wanting palms
I could not grasp "enough."

Be grateful, I corrected.
You stand with a straight spine,
Your eyes see a mile in the distance
Clenched fists grasp nothing
Closed, not wanting to be filled.

Be satisfied, I said.
You came for a perfect garden
After sowing impossible dreams,
Your imperfect trees are so beautiful
Giving, you never have to ask.

Be open, I thought.
Let the old dreams be lost
Swept away by the wind,
Find better things to fill you,
What you see and hear around.

I hope to stand on honest ground,
To want no more than I am given,
To be living glad for deep breaths,
My hands and head and hopes
Taking in thanks.