Gardening With Matthew 5
Janet S. Gardner
"But I tell you,
Do not resist an evil person.
If someone strikes you
on the right cheek,
turn him the other also."
I would rather pull
a thousand weeds
than prune the impatiens,
for of all the flowers
their incandescent pinks
and sunset reds
bloom continuously
even in the gloomiest corners
too dark for roses.
"If someone
wants to sue you
and take your tunic,
let him have your cloak
as well."
This pruning cut
(called pinching)
removes young leaves
(and the flowers as well)
on the tip of each stem.
This, the gardening book says,
promotes bushiness
and a fuller, healthier plant.
"If someone forces you
to go one mile,
go with him two miles."
And so, I carefully cut
first only the leaves,
saving the flowers.
Their long tuberous stems,
like green, bony fingers,
bend from the weight
of each cut.
Weak and fragile,
they are already too long.
The cut needs to be deeper
if the plant is to survive,
sacrificing its flowers
for life.
"Give to the one
who asks of you
and do not turn away
from one
who wants to borrow
from you."
I pause, pondering the knife.
If only I could wait
until the flowers have fallen,
yet young buds
are already forming.
Impatiens are restless bloomers,
until the fierce winter rains
pound their slender stems
into a muddy grave.
Only the deep cuts
will save them,
bringing a rebirth
of full, bright flowers.
Anything less is death.
“Love your enemies."
The deed is done.
The cut is made.
Painfully, I feel that
part of me
lies cut with the flowers.
Is the sacrifice worth it?
The Book says it is —
and it hasn't failed me yet.
The End
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