A Gardener's Prayer

I've been inspired by my friend, Sophie, to start playing guitar again.  She plays the fiddle.  She and I played together a few days ago and I was pretty pitiful so I need to practice more so I can keep up with her.  I have a notebook with lots of songs I've played in the past so today I was going through it and picking out the ones I could remember.

Last year I had the guts (or too much wine) and sang a song on here that I wrote for James for Christmas in 2004.  Today I came across a song I wrote for him for our anniversary in 2005.  It seemed appropriate to re-visit the song since it's gardening season.  I remember sending a copy of this to my sister to edit and she didn't approve that the gardener dies at the end of the song.  I kept it that way though.

It's called A Gardener's Prayer and this time I'm not going to sing it.  Did I just hear a sigh of relief?

He wakes in the morning
And raises the blinds to see
That a new day's begun and no clouds hide the sun
What a beautiful day this will be

He walks to his garden
And he talks to the birds on his way
He strolls down the aisles as he sings and he smiles
Then he falls on his knees to pray

Lord, thanks for my garden
For my family and friends it feeds
For the bluebird's sweet song and a back that is strong
And providing for all my needs
For the vegetables, rain and rich soil
For hard work and a soft bed to rest
For sweat on my brow, my hoe and my plow
Oh Lord, I know I've been blessed

He sows seeds in the springtime
And his son labors by his side
It soon starts to rain but neither complains
The sun'll set before they go inside

The years pass, the son's grown
The gardener's nails are still full of clay
His plot may be small but his corn still stands tall
And he still makes the time to pray

Lord, thanks for my garden
For my family and friends it feeds
For the bluebird's sweet song and a back that is strong
And providing for all my needs
For the vegetables, rain and rich soil
For hard work and a soft bed to rest
For sweat on my brow, my hoe and my plow
Oh Lord, I know I've been blessed

The son walks him to his garden
Though it's cool the sun warms their hands
They talk of things past but the day's closing fast
Their eyes lock 'cause they both understand

The son holds him and whispers
"I'll always cherish these past few days"
It breaks my heart so but I know you must go
The he falls to his knees and prays

Lord, thanks for this gardener
Who nourished me like his most precious seed
He showed me how to be strong, how to know right from wrong
He provided for all my needs
Once again he'll be one with the soil
And I pray as we lay him to rest
To my son I hope to be all my dad was to me
Oh Lord, I know I've been blessed