They are so brave
to hold nothing back,
to hang their future
in the air so delicately,
to risk falling,
becoming nothing
but decay for the winter,
to trust the gardener

even if he himself
is learning how
to be brave,
to hold nothing back,
to risk failing
as he grows

Trust is more
than believing
a good harvest will come.
Even if the leaves wither
or flowers fade,
though the fruit
is slow,
the trusting soul
is daily brought to tears
by the sun,
the wind,
the rain.

It pours itself all
the way out—
with its beauty
on a world that may
or may not
champion its growth

because it is satisfied
to be a student
of the goodness
and mercy it finds
in the gardener
who is also learning
how to trust.