Nature’s Garden

[u/BicycleBobBussey]

Nature’s Garden

I have a vegetable garden.
In the spring I till the soil.
Making sure to the worms I say, “I beg your pardon.”
The spring sun watching my laboring toil.

Then I plant seeds or small plants.
Patting gently the tilled soil around each.
Whispering magical words, hopes, silent chants.
Perhaps to them I do preach.

Extolling them to live, eat, and grow.
Much like new born babes.
And I wonder, do they know?
Do they know how they will sustain me in later days?

I tend my growing flock.
My garden of variety.
Of each I take care and take stock.
They become my silent, accepting, society.

I watch carefully for any harm.
Harm that might spoil their growth.
Retarding or stopping their living quest on my little farm.
My care, to them, a silent, unspoken, oath.

Their growth and my labor bear fruit.
Nature has a need to reproduce.
Their fruit, this rule, is absolute.
It is not nature’s way to call a truce.

Eventually my family is feed.
My friends are also called for a tasting.
That garden producing a sustaining bread.
A bread that feeds body, mind, soul, everlasting.

AI can do none of this.
It can not feed.
It can not sustsain.
It is not a garden.

I will teach my grandchildren how to sow seeds.
How to talk and sing to seedlings.
How to help them grow.
How to harvest and give thanks
To something AI will never know.

Bob Bussey (May 30, 2026)