Upon this broken earth, with broken back,
I sowed seeds I hoped would take root.
I had set my sights on distant pleasure but
I was greedy, and what was sweet, bittered,
Withered, and rotted away in my hands.
I cannot atone for my wasteful ways
Nor hope to hold the flowers that bloom again,
So sweet, so bright, so beautiful.
I am here on my knees, weeding,
Praying the hope I sowed rises from the earth
And feeds me, and fills me, like these radishes,
So joyful, so eager, so red.