My Garden as my life


Digging in my garden,
I get dirt under my nails,
Weeding, pruning, planting,
The garden of my life always needs work.
Back breaking, exhausting work,
To make my garden,
Someplace I want to be,
Every day I must clean the dirt and worries
From under my nails.
If I do not, then it builds up and makes my hands useless,
No longer able to work on my garden.
The garden of my life used to have high walls
Surrounding it, Protecting it,
It was a lonely place and the shade promoted weeds.
I tore down those walls and now my garden is thriving,
It is watered by those who come to look at it,
by those who sit and smell the flowers of my life,
The sunshine of openess heals whatever blights may come,
And friendship and love enrich the soil it grows in.