a garden, a mirror

When I was a little girl I enjoyed playing in the dirt. Not in the way some people may think, for me it was a garden, a magic that is hard to explain, unless you are a gardener.  Mud pies, baked in the sun.

As I grew older a garden became more important to me, representing a form of beauty brought directly to our world thru gifts from heaven.

My garden is dead.

When did that happen, when did I decided that dirt was not important to me anymore.  I look outside and see the weeds, the blackberry bushes the lack of flowers, the damn weeds.

You do not need to go to years of school to figure out that my garden represents my feelings....

I mirror my garden, it has been several years but this year it is time to go back to the dirt. I am not dead, my garden will bloom again.