I find them in the garden of life,
For there are many near and far,
Seeds of truth and some of strife,
The plowshare turns them out.
For many thousands for the world to see,
Wasted far and wide like tender dew.
Whether you plow, or reap, or sow, God waters the need.
Plant in the healing spring, when it erupts with warm light,
Earth seems sweeter with love upon the firstborn moon.
Sunbeams contrive too bring magnificent life,
To the garden of life giving love and God rights.