Sometimes I look out to the garden
It’s a mess
A sorry state of nature.
Ugly rot and ruin
Wild things growing in all directions.
For a long time it’s been this way
Something left alone to its own devices
Something seen as too big of a task
That would take a lot of time and
A lot of energy
And consistent looking after.
But with the right tools
I can pull out the dead shrubs
And make room for growth
I can discard of the negatives taking up space
Taking up energy
And let something new take its place.
Piles of weeds and things that are ugly
Are cleared of the earth
It’s not quite a blank canvas but
The blossoms are still there
The colour is still there
The hope is still there.
Underneath all of that unkempt
I am still here
And I am ready