THE GARDEN

For a long time I felt alone and buried beneath a thick covering of suffocating grief.  I accepted this and thought of it as the way I would live the rest of my days.  Eventually, however, the isolation and depression became so oppressive that I began to feel not only listless but restless.  I wanted more.  I needed more.  Not a lot but something more than what I had.  I had lived this way for so long that I wasn't sure I was up to the challenge of trying to make changes.  If it was going to happen then I would have to begin to make changes within myself.  I had told myself this many times but for whatever reason I did nothing to change anything.

At the same time that I began to feel this way, Spring arrived.  I had been asking for a garden for many years.  The first year we moved here, we had a vegetable garden.  A beautiful, bountiful garden.  Then no more.

The white picket fence surrounding the garden is in need of repair and a coat of paint.  The wood around the raised beds had begun to decay.  The beds were overgrown with thick coverings of weeds.  Weeds had grown up in the walkways and a few trees had taken root and grown tall.  The work to restore it seemed too overwhelming.

My husband, Patrick, was still recovering from an extended illness and I had broken my left hand.  I thought another year would past without a garden.  Patrick knew that we both needed something to renew our spirits and give us something, other than ourselves, to think about.  Because of his illness, our financial resources were limited but after some mental deliberation, he decided it would be money well spent to hire someone to fix up the garden for us.  And, my oh my, how it did lift our spirits!  It got us out of the house and into the sunshine and fresh air.

We started seedlings inside the house and watched them sprout and grow.  He purchased plants to set out.  I bought seeds.  Together we put up trellises for the peas and cucumbers to grow up on.  After everything was in, we returned to the garden everyday to see if any of the seeds had broken through the soil.  We knew it would take time but still we walked out together to look.

We also placed a beautiful little Memorial in one corner of the garden for Christian.  On either side of the stone bench, Patrick hung hanging baskets of flowers.  Together we hung a wind chime my Mother had purchased for Christian in a tall rose bush.

While I was sitting in the garden one day, it dawned on me now much my own life paralleled that of a flower bulb or a seed in a neglected garden.  The following composition is the result of those thoughts.

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THE GARDEN

For so long I lay hidden in a dark, cold place

Buried deep, deep, deep beneath the ground

Early Spring brought the weight of soggy soil

Rainless, sunbaked Summers

Destroyed any hope of life beyond my grave

Suffocated with decaying leaves in the Fall

Snow blanketed and froze me in the Winter.

I didn't even struggle to be free

I was filled with too much hopelessness

I had no will to fight left in me

I lay there accepting this as my fate.

All the ills that nature could heap upon me

I accepted.

The years past and nothing changed.

I lay there barren, dormant, and alone.

Sleeping, sleeping, sleeping.

Accepting, accepting, accepting.

Wanting nothing, changing nothing.

Existing but just barely.

One day I awoke to find the

Ground shaking all around me

I found myself rolling and tumbling

I lay there waiting to see 

What would happen next.

Shortly steel teeth raked the tumbled soil

And I found myself under a thin blanket 

Of rich, black earth.

Soon others were placed next to me

I couldn't see them but I knew they were there.

Gentle showers of sweet water fell all around

And puddled up before sinking deep

Bathing me in its hydrating moisture.

I felt the sun warming the soil.

Within myself things began to change

Slowly at first and then very quickly

It seemed to me.

Things that had been coiled up

Held in tight

Started to expand and push out

At last breaking through my hard shell.

Life supporting roots shot out

And pulled in the life giving water and nutrients.

I felt myself reaching for the light

I wanted to feel the warm sun.

I spread out my arms to receive

Its warmth.

Each day I grew a little more

Getting stronger and stronger.

After a while I could see

Above the soil line.

I could see my fellow sprouts

So green, so full of light

and life.

I found myself wanting 

To be strong again.

Above my dark grave

The earth was beautiful

And I wanted to grow taller and taller

I reached, I stretched

I pulled myself up and out

The bulb that gave me strength

Beat like a hundred little hearts.

I was free.  Free at last to breathe.

Part of me would remain

Forever buried beneath the soil

And I knew there would come a time

When conditions would get hard to bear

A time when leaves will fall, 

Snow will bury me beneath

Its icy blanket. 

A time when my strength would wane

And I would coil up tight within myself.

But now I know that Spring will return

The sun will come back and warm me

Gente rain will bath me.

My strength will return and when it does

I will pull myself up and grow tall and strong

My fellow survivors and I will welcome

Each other back with loving, 

Encouraging words and thoughts.

We will feel the sun on our faces

If a strong wind blows, we will bend

But we will not break

We will lean upon each other for support.

The rain may beat us down from time to time

But when it stops we will stand tall

Adversity may slow us down

But it will not stop our growth

Or hold us down for long.

And when others stop and gaze upon us

They will marvel at our ability to survive

Marvel at our resilience.

And they will say amongst themselves

That we are the most beautiful flowers

In all the garden.