in the growing
in the garden
of life
is the knowing
this is a hard one
no longer a wife
struggles laid out
for this vine
I have become
I will climb and shout
ascending the incline
moving forward for no one
but me
garden gate flung open wide
I grow straight up to the sky
breaking through the boundaries
I seem to notice all around me
yet I did not construct these
and I no longer am here to appease
them
flight of the vine
aged as the finest wine
ready, willing, able
from the garden to the table
the bounty I have grown
sits on this table alone
a feast, a celebration
as I allow this space of elaborate elation
I envibe my harvest's vibrant vibration
revive my soul, sustenance so refined
feed this wandering woman vine
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