Poetry Submissions

I'm rereading old poems I wrote long ago for some to rework and submit for a contest. Ran across this one which I like:

My Summer Garden

Carefully He took the shovel
and with deep intent
turned the soil over
only to find clod after clod
of cement consistency

Preparing the soil
to receive seeds
must be done before
the growing and harvest

Clinging to useless habits
of mind and body
that limit my growth;
patiently He persists,
reluctantly, I yield

Seeds are planted
to be nurtured or ignored
It's up to me