Bonsai poem

The prompt for this poem was to begin writing using the words, “I am but…”

I am but an unfinished poem
a jumble of words asking
to be strung together
undecided about its order :
in one arrangement I am a little
more this. In another arrangement,
I am a little more that.

I am but a gardener
snipping words into shapes
like a bonsai tree.
Every option seems plausible
for a while, every configuration
could convince someone
somewhere it is beautiful.

I am but an unfinished
bonsai poem, a jumble
of word-leaves pruned
into something shaped
like me. I must have
patience, choose a
direction, and wait
to see results.