Mind, a Garden (no. 1)

Mind, a Garden (no. 1)

By Alec Whitson

Green grass of the soul

grows against the odds

that the cold asphalt dealt it.

Flowers, once floundering youths,

full bloom after years of patience;

you tried so hard to make them grow.

Now you have a garden

never thought you had what it takes,

but here we are.

Vines spread like wings and

flowers grow tall and confident.

Fragile, delicate, yet just enough

to feed and nourish,

to keep your shit together; 

some color, some life, some hope.

Try and remind yourself, as you nurture,

reaping the fruits of your work,

that you can be proud of your garden.

For despite the years of grey,

frost, fear, and heartbreak,

your garden grows, in the light of the sun.