It's not about
outgrowing myself
I would rather cultivate
my in-growing
within the garden
of my heart.  The dry
part has to be watered
the weeds have over-grown
they have to be discarded
leaves have browned and withered
many decaying on the sod
so long left neglected
the fence has fallen
(how dismal it looks
in the autumn rain!)
if I look away in indifference
that which I once loved
would die in the direst pain-

do I have the will
and when should I start?
the sun is at midpoint
soon it would be evening
and then follows the dark

the tools are waiting
myself I am testing
now I must embark
this shall be my redeeming.