You cling tightly to seeds

that are trying in anguish

to sprout between fingers

strangled by your clutch

they perish before they are given

the chance to blossom,

my love, don’t you see that

seeds can’t germinate in palms

that are greedy for control?

Relinquish the desire for power,

surrender to the process of growth,

trust in the sun and her soil

for she is the giver of life,

she knows how to yield crops

and wild flowers

through her seasons

nurturing from afar

without the need for constraint,

my love, won’t you look and see

that a garden can only be birthed by

hands who have the courage to first,



let go.


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