This is how you sow the seeds.
Is it the tender loving care? Really?
Why did you have to leave so soon. I truly wish that I had known.
Made bitter by the fact. My momma left like that.
Daughters, we
Learn, to tend the darker things
To weed. Garden till you’re feeling grounded.
So the pests ~
They won’t fester
Would you, as an angel
Always cry, roses and rain. Have to smile. A lovely gift.
Mother.
To no one else, but me
Them memories, last forever
Long ago, seemingly
After all. I am my mother’s daughter.
Am, till I too am called
Gone to garden
* Robin Wall Kimerer Quote: done golden nugget style
This poem really struck a chord for me. I’m having difficulty naming it exactly but it is that sense of loss and association of relationship with gardening. I really like the lines ” Daughters, we
Learn, to tend the darker things
To weed. Garden till you’re feeling grounded.”
This has been a literal experience for me – weeding in despair. Thank you for this poem!