I have not completed her yet.
I will never complete her
because she will grow as I grow.

I did not make her out of much,
Just a few old bricks from an old fallen barn,
a broken tomato cage,
a small planting clay pot,
wind chime without a middle,
and rusted camel bells.
But she came out of me.

She sits there with mint growing on top of her head.
A flower sits between with her legs,
Legs that she gently stretch out on the ground,
Her toes pointing upward to the sun,
Arms raised high shaking chimes and bells
to the rhythm of the wind.
There is burning incense out of her naked breast.
Soon she will have two breasts.

She watches over the compost pile
and makes small living organisms turn waste into nutrients.
These nutrients will give newborn plants the energy to grow when they creep out of thier dormant sleeping shells.
Garlic plants grow around her.
They are there to protect her.

She will watch
the asparagus come out of the manure
year after year.
She will be there
when I put new sleeping seeds
into the ground.
She will protect the new plants
and help them produce the fruits
that our Mother Earth intended her to produce.

She will drink and wash herself from the rain
when it falls from the sky.
She will sun bathe naked in the warm sunrays
that visit us during the long warm summer days.
She will bless the plants she is protecting
when I harvest them,
Smile when she smells the magic of cooking
floating from the kitchen.
She is the sister of the earth
and protecting this small garden.

She is my Garden Goddess.
A Goddess that came out of me.