I have been given this plot to tend,
But it’s really His, from beginning to end.
Ideas running through my head.
They wake me as I lie in bed.
Where there would be weeds, a garden now grows,
From bursts of creativity, a gift He bestowed.
He provided the rocks, the soil, the plants, the thoughts.
Without His guidance, I could do naught.
Carol Cichorski
beautiful!