I say the boxwood has to go,
so I cut off all its branches,
dig at its roots,
smash it with a sledgehammer,
drill it with an augur, and
dig at its roots again.
Still it grips the earth for dear life.
Is it in agony?
Is it praying to you, Lord, for deliverance?
I have a vision for my yard.
I spend hours wielding shears,
loppers, saw, and mower.
And what about you, Lord?
Do you have a vision
for this world? For me?
And what tools are you wielding?

 

Photo of a battered boxwood shrub.
Photo and text copyright 2018 by Danny N. Schweers
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