Imperfect Love

Scrawny roots dried out by the harsness of daily life. This is the only ones I have to feed us with because of the depletion of kindness. compassion and the expanse of greed. I gently place it with all the fragile love, hopes and goodness I have left Withered, cracked and ones devoid of the natural oils of this earth are my only tools. I gather manure from the stored, crackled, salted tears scars ,and mistakes to protect them. To best strengthen my root to break thru and survive this sometimes cruel world into the dirt it goes. When I seed the sprout waving at me it's rejoicing that I sing. But when it smiles to thank me for the hard work and care my scars disappear, my stored tears melt and my heart swells. Then an unexpected harsh spring wind comes that I did not perceive or prepare it for.. It damages it. It turns it's back on me in pain, hurt and anger because it's stem is damaged. My heart breaks in unrecognizable cuts but not in anger, only sorrow for it's pain. I know now I can not fix it, though desperately desire to.. I accept it's anger. and give nature's time to help.the root adjust to life as all of us are, an imperfect living beings Space from me it asks, and receives as a reminder of happier times and the one who wasn't perfect. I hope on a very sunny day. with blue skies and no clouds that my root knows. Knows what one may wonder? Knows and believes I love it and truly did the best I could at the time. Knows that one day we can all be healed Knows that there will be a time where we can love and be loved , without life's cruel winds.