I’ve always wanted a garden,
But I fear my thumbs are black,
Coated in sadness and sorrow,
The only things that grow for me.
I’ve always wanted a garden,
But I gave up long ago,
Coated in unfulfilled wishes,
The only fruit on barren trees.
I’ve always wanted a garden,
And I tried to plant before,
Coated in dreams and desires,
That only others brought to life.
I’ve always wanted a garden,
But I’m not the child I was,
Coated in sadness and sorrow,
The only reason nothing grows!
I’ve always wanted a garden,
And I know my thumbs are green,
Coated in wishes and hopes and dreams,
My garden is a fruitful scene!
—
My response to Kim’s Tuesday Poetics prompt at
dVerse.
Whether growing a garden or anything else, the only mistake is not to try!
My mother and grandmother each kept a garden as long as they could – flowers, vegetables, herbs, berries and strawberries, grape vines, pear trees, and maybe more I don’t remember. I do remember picking beans, onions, and other vegetables, but whether it was spoken or not, I always felt like I was all black thumbs next to their green ones.
It seems too late in a way, but I’ve come to appreciate the value of gardening, especially growing produce to brighten your table and health. Yet I’ve been too overwhelmed to garden, knowing I couldn’t keep the extensive gardens my mother and grandmother had.
Suddenly (it wasn’t, but feels like it was) I’ve blown off all these expectations. To that I can only, honestly say, “Thank God!” I’ll start small with some herb pots, and I might even lose some. But the only way I can really fail, is if I never try!
Happy gardening, whether it’s plants or the garden of thoughts and beliefs we so often neglect!
Mystical Strings 
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