When you planted these seeds
in the back corner plot
of your mind,
did you have any clue your
skills would bloom this color?
When you pruned through
your boxy schedule
carving time,
did you suspect such a
harvest of rest this season?
When you weeded out
withered assumptions
and judgmental nettles,
did you imagine new
acres to breathe this side of heaven?
Opmerkingen