I won’t go in search of my Mother’s garden
I already know what I’ll find there
flowers
struggling to survive
amid the stranglehold of weeds
flowers watered with her tears
and fed with her broken heart
the sun blocked
by my father
who never once
thought of anyone but himself
cheating every chance he got
while she planted bulb
after bulb
singing to them
hoping that the new flowers
would somehow
grow
knowing they
never had a chance

I always hoped that
my Mother had a
Secret Garden
one my father
couldn’t destroy
one where flowers grew
with wild abandon
colors so bright
she had to shade her eyes
just to look at them
I wish she had a garden
like that
a Secret Garden
filled with beauty
that he
could never touch

I’m an artist, a writer, a vegetarian, an animal rights activist, and quite a few other things as well. I love books, cats, philosophy, good conversation, Chicago and the arts. So my blog is full of bits and pieces but it’s the bits and pieces that make life interesting to me. You can read more of my writing at Rethinking Life