Over the years it became overgrown.
But it was cared for once,
At the beginning.
By others who loved and nurtured it.
In time, it was left solely to me.
I tended it but lacked the tools, the know-how, or the guidance.
In the end, I abandoned it.
And gave in to the distractions of the world.
Maybe I thought it would take care of itself,
Or that one day I might return.
In my absence, everything competed for resources.
Blending smoothly into the thriving chaos.
What shape it once had, was lost,
As boundaries blurred,
And the once-cared-for grew wild.
Angry and unrecognisable.
Perhaps just in time,
I did return.
Forced back by pain,
I stood gingerly in the gateway,
surveying the confusion,
And wondered where to begin?
The garden’s centrepiece, perhaps?
The family tree.
Planted generations ago.
It has its place, surely?
But what if it blocks the light,
Turning shade into shadow?
Should it be restrained? Restricted? Uprooted?
All in good time, he said.
For now, relax and make a start.
Step by step.
Be patient. Be gentle.
Look closely, see clearly,
And use whatever you have.
Prune the out-of-control.
Weed the unwanted, unnoticed, unnecessary.
Bury your hands in the soil.
Plant seeds of your choosing.
Feel life everywhere, in all forms.
Allow its magic. It will support every effort you make.
And always carry with you the intention
To create beauty and discover the truth.
In time your garden will reveal its splendour.
When others ask, tell them.
For equal magnificence
Exists also in theirs.