Heather Browne- Two Poems

The Garden Beckons 

The garden beckons.

My Father is calling me.

But where is my voice?

I try to clear this cemented plug.

It’s been here much too long.

The cork that wants and needs to pop.

That’s its purpose really.

To hold in ‘til ready and then explode out its flow.

I just need to find my courage and my voice.

And so I sit.

And wait.

I am hidden here.

Behind the big fruited tree.

On the soft, gentle, quiet grass.

Still.

No breeze.

Not cold.

Not warm.

Just here.

Just me.

I question my stomach, but it isn’t hungry.

I question my spirit, but I think it’s asleep.

It’s dark here.

Not really scary.

But I see no light.

And I wonder and wait.

I feel the stillness in the air.

The wait on anticipation.

The wait for something.

On something.

The garden beckons,

My Father is calling me,

But where is my voice?

I try to make a sound

and all I do is

breathe

Let Me Come

Let me come.

Let me dance in your garden.

Where you’ll plant the seed of words you long to sprout.

Where your flowers bend and sway your scented songs.

Let me hear your gentle voice upon the wind.

Calling me.

Calling me in.

And I laugh,

That I waited one minute more.

One minute more than now.

Heather Browne is a faith-based psychotherapist and published poet in The Galway Review, The Artistic Muse, Leaves of Ink, and Deep Water Literary Journal and Calvary Cross.  She lives with her husband of 20 years and 2 amazing teens in So. Ca.