Overgrown Garden

In the season of harvest,

Can we let it all go?

From darkness to sunshine,

To seasons of growth.

Foliage memories,

Blossoming tears.

Guarded and thriving,

For too many years.

In land that was spoiled,

With wrong seeds that grew.

Watered and fed,

By men like you.

Seeped up through the soil,

This evil took root.

It poisoned the water,

Fear grew, and it grew.

She stared at her garden,

Her life in the rows.

Vines curved into cursive,

Her story in prose.

She wished it were wilting,

Hoped that it would die.

But upwards it grew.

It reached towards the sky.

She couldn’t ignore it,

As she had many years.

She couldn’t destroy it.

Too dense with her fears.

The demons were winning.

Vines wrapped ‘round her feet.

An overgrown garden,

With nothing to eat.

The moment was blinding,

But vision was clear.

If she didn’t do something,

She’d die in the year.

Her choices: do nothing,

Succumb to abuse.

Or harvest the garden,

And put it to use.

The garden was poisoned,

She’d learn what it taught.

Each lesson would sting her,

The thorns that it brought.

But the girl kept on moving.

Determined to live.

The soil was healing,

And ready to give.

She harvested flowers,

And hung them to dry.

She harvested corn stalks,

The fuel for her fire.

Some fruit could be salvaged,

And cooked into food.

Some sage could be dried out,

And burned for the mood.

Each piece of the garden,

Her hands touched with care.

It healed something in her,

But was she prepared?

For healing is scary,

And it never ends.

A vulnerable soil,

She needs to attend.

She sat with her harvest,

Her work had sunk in.

She smiled so gently,

Made room for the spring.

In the season of harvest,

Can we let it all go?

From darkness to sunshine,

To seasons of growth.