Pull the weeds, plant the seeds
this is what the garden said
choose what stays
choose what goes
be mindful when you do
the silver oaks darken the sun in the mind
trim the trunks, so light may you find
the bindweed traps the heart
clip the vine, free the art
the poison oak stings your delicate hand
let the goats eat these weeds right off the land
the pompous grass clouds the soul in your eyes
pluck these weeds before they set and rise
the deadweed piles darken your spirit
compost the weeds, lighten your merit
plant the seeds of love, hope and color
water with nourishment, fertilize with wonder
and you will warm the heart of another
and then,
begin again,
pull the weeds
plant the seeds
I feel like my garden has been talking to my soul and I want to share the conversation.