That’s the reminder I give myself while crouched in the garden
pulling bittercress one handful at a time
It’s a quiet prayer for release—an earnest hope that someday
the battle against weeds might finally ease
a new season
celebrating what was (the life)
a time to see (the weeds)
As the grasses change to a golden ochre
exclamation points of echinacea seed heads dot the landscape
the ground reveals what has been growing all along
No longer masked by the desirables (the chosen)
now glaringly obvious
vibrant green invaders
scream against the fading brown (grasses)
Humbling and scary
I see the weeds
understand their strength
fear their resilience
Humiliated that those weeds
(should I name them?)
are even in my garden
Standing back
with a birds’ eye view
the garden declares
a finale of colors
deep maroon leaves
fuzzy brown stems
and soft yellow weeping grasses
it has been a season
accepting
I am here
I celebrate the imperfect beauty
Breathing in the crisp fresh air, I choose to
reflect on where I’ve been
let the quietness teach
rest, my friend, truly rest
Exhaling
(releasing the stagnancy of the season)
Cheering, it will be well
It’s ok to be sad
mourn the ending
listen for the lullabies
rocking the earth to sleep
It is what it is
I am thankful for my journey
though a new spring awaits
(sprouts will again push up their delicate leaves)
It’s ok to be sad
mourn the ending
listen for the lullabies
rocking the earth to sleep
It is what it is
I am thankful for my journey
though a new spring awaits
(sprouts will again push up their delicate leaves)
Today is the day for me
to rest and reflect
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Until next thyme,
Jen from My Thyme Gardens
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