The Garden of My Soul
In the early morning,
my soil was so pure,
curled up in caring hands,
parental love is sure.
Tending to their site,
water fell into my heart,
protecting me always,
a perfect way to start.
But the approaching noon
brought dark clouds down.
The first forces of nature
and chaos hit my ground,
parental sun and moon
were unhinged, replaced
by this fear of darkness,
my garden began to waste.
Decay is gradual,
but time and weight are real,
I was always present
and tried to go by feel.
Blinded eyes are covered,
defending each mistake,
tending the souls of others,
something had to break.
Very late this afternoon,
her smile passed across
my weedy heartland.
The sweetest rain
swept deep into my soil,
fetal memories,
creative destruction,
overcame me.
This late burst of beauty,
took my breath away,
glorious sunset
toward the end of day.
Ablaze and overwhelmed,
I had to look away,
back to my garden,
overflowing with dismay.
The night has just fallen,
the stars can be “heard”,
flickering the secrets
of the universe.
Surrounded by silence,
taking in the whole,
reaching up to the sky,
from the garden of my soul.
Copyright © James Fredholm | Year Posted 2014
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