Secret Daffodil Garden

My heart stilled and swelled

upon seeing blossom trees

and daffodils

in this secret garden.

Cherishing a few snatched

minutes of stillness,

in and with myself,

I picked a bent daffodil;

a keepsake of this Gift to me.

My face turned upwards,

to the bright,

clear,

white

sky

hanging over me like a banner.

My eyes closed;

My heart full

with

gratitude,

love,

and

the pain of longing for you Grandad,

who loved daffodils so.

My spirit open,

with hope of what will be painted

on the blank sky that is

the open canvas of my life

for this year ahead,

As my ears fill with the swell of birdsong.

Image: DLB 6.4.19
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I retreated

I arrived emotionally flat,

internal turmoil whirling;

I sat by the garden window,

I wrote poetry about the rain & flowers

& I prayed,

I drank coffee,

I prayed,

I cried,

I raged,

I listened to Switchfoot on loop (The Shadow Proves the Sunshine),

I listened to more poetry,

I prayed,

I drank coffee,

I cried,

I sang,

I read Narnia,

I sat,

I prayed,

I drank coffee,

I psychoanalysed,

I vented,

I cried,

I mourned,

I forgave,

I prayed,

I listened to more Switchfoot (The Blues!),

I danced by myself in the autumn sun,

I cried,

I wrote more poetry & prayers,

I ate & chatted & laughed with my friend some more…

I left feeling tired & awakened alike.

Switchfoot: The Shadow Proves the Sunshine