The Gardener's Allegory

Let goodness flow unfettered,
we'll not drown, even in
this fixed and finite world.
Airy unsubstantial
goodness, often unseen,
does not displace nor flood
the smallest sprout: no more
than hope, or love, or grace.

But badness always seems
viscid, thick as goodness
curdled, crowding in, like
weeds among the flowers,
to be between the light
and our life's desires.