Garden Still Life
I have to get back to the garden
where there is still life -
where, despite being twisted
and misshapen by the weather
the rosemary thrives
where the sparse rose bush
has grown leggy and wooden
but holds shy leaves
and where the crocus
quietly voices a promise
and struggles skyward.
Poetry
shamelessly reposted from a bit earlier this year, because it feels so appropos.
I'm glad you reposted it. Love it.
ReplyDeleteWe all long for a still garden to refresh our weary soul; this poem stirs that desire and longing to create our own literally and figuratively. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteerin, yes.
ReplyDeleteno matter how long we leave it, it still grows. though it mightn't flower, it still lives.
reminds me a bit of the secret garden.
i really really enjoyed this poem (actually, a lot more than the secret garden ^_^ ) so thank you for reposting it and sharing it via the carnival!
I, of course, really dig the concept behind this piece, and the way it was so naturally said.
ReplyDeleteI missed it first time around. I'm glad I had a chance to see it.
Man! I'm about to be very busy with my all endeavors.
later.
all my, maybe....
ReplyDelete