The seeds nestle in my hand
Not your final place I whisper
You were made for greater things
I place them in the dirt I have prepared
Smoothing more dirt over the top
Adding water to the mix
Adding a little prayer
Knowing some will make it
And some won’t.
Checking each day
Tiny leaves peak out overnight
All looking the same
Hoping that this time I won’t raise ragweed
Thinking it was the sunflowers.
I try to back off a bit
Knowing they need to gain strength
Trying to keep an eye on the water
I buried hope in the dirt
I buried faith in the dirt
Eventually, I find I buried surprise
Because in the midst of my blooms
I find flowers I didn’t plant
Flowers that look amazingly like
My neighbor’s flowers
My neighbor who lives two houses away
We laugh together about it.
All my plans
From the first seeds nestling in my hand
To the glorious blooms defying the odds
All my plans dependent on greater plans.
I plant hope
I plant faith
And I learn to lean back
And welcome surprise
Knowing I was made for greater things.
Poem by Jeanne Anderson
Jeanne Anderson is a retired 8th grade English teacher, enjoying retirement by writing about the world. Exchanging stories with 18 grandchildren keeps her busy, and her love of nature grows every day.