A man once found a garden
Beside a hidden door;
It would never be the same again
As it had been before.

He tore away the flowers
To him they had no worth.
Leaving only dirt where he had been,
He spat upon the earth.

As time tracked all his footprints,
It filled them day by day
With the decay and dark confusion
Of a patch in disarray.

A man once found the garden
Beside the broken door;
He said, "This could be the same again
As it once was before"

With steadfast strength he tackled
The thorns that choked the plot,
And coaxed the buds of "Honesty"
As he rooted out the rot.

He asked no thanks or fanfare
For all this sweat and toil,
Reward enough if dormant blooms
Should spring from fruitful soil.

Now the sun shines on the garden
Beside the open door;
A garden with more promise
Than it's ever had before.

(Dedicated to Andy Trigg, with love and thanks)