The garden is crying out for rain,
my flowers drooping in the summer sun,
distressed and needing tenderness and care.
When I am in distress, I find
you quietly listening
as you read between the lines
in a way which no one else can do
and this often takes me by surprise.
It is your way, my dear,
to comfort with a tender word
which soaks into my soul.
I water the garden with the hose
and watch those droplets of water
soak down in
to disappear from sight
and it is in this moment that I know
what nurturing is.
Published in the poetry anthology Twilight Dips