I say to you: do not pull up the weeds. If you begin, it is a lifelong task As with each stem and bud you find and grasp Three more will seem to spring up from its seeds.
Again, I say: don't bother with the weeds. If they offend, give them some other name; A "wild rose," although it smells the same Will sound to itching ears most soft and sweet.
I warn you, friend, to not worry the weeds. The gayest gardener, for now, is the one Who with mulch and manure blots out the sun And, by this guise of care, carelessly leaves The once-good soil to the work of weeds Which, rotting the roots of fruit, will freely feast.
A note from the author:
"'Gardening Advice' is a satirical poem on sanctification. You see, prior to moving to Iowa, I’d never had a garden. Now, I am faced with the unending task of pulling weeds. This reminded me of my spiritual growth, of having to dig up sin from the root instead of just covering it up. Put simply, sanctification requires us not only to bear fruit but to pull weeds. In my poem, I take on the voice of temptation, expressing the deceptive idea that it would be easier if we just let the weeds run rampant."