There’s a garden deep inside,
Hidden where my fears reside.
Weeds of uncertainty and suffering.
Thriving in the endless rain.
I plow the land, though it burdens the heart,
Sowing seeds with a great effort.
Some modicum of hope starts to grow,
Despite the storms rising in its defiance.
Sometimes, the sun refuses to come out.
Believing nothing will sprout, nothing will bloom.
But still, I cultivate, I nurture, I wait,
Knowing that the drought is not the end.
Soon, the garden will be green again.
With petals kissed by the morning dew.
For healing is slow, but it is mine and beautiful.
An element of calmness, a symbol of sanctity.
Image by congerdesign from Pixabay