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the garden

April 9, 2011

dear garden, you were once a promise of rebirth, a new beginning, the blossoming of true love once again. you have been covered for some time now, protected from the cold, and lying dormant. you are wet, dark and smell of compost. last year you did supply us with such bountiful and lovely gifts, I enjoyed and appreciated digging my hands in your earth, I felt bliss as I watered you with the sun beaming in my eyes. you were a blessing to me. but you failed. your promise of rebirth never came to fruition, and the only blossoming to be had was what I could pull from your soil. you are lucky you have been protected and covered these past few months. the love has died and all blossoms have withered.

garden, I look at you now and it makes me sad. I wonder if I can bring you to life again all by myself. I want to, but the sadness inside of me is winning lately. It is up to me to fight for me and for you. I will do my very best to turn your soil this spring, to love your earth and not expect anything in return. I will plant seeds and hope for a rebirth of lovely green life and a blossoming that can only occur within me, alone, as a woman who can and will heal.

I do love you garden.

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