Pulling Weeds

Some are deceiving
Masquerading
As another one
Of the flowers
Hiding their roots
Amongst the foliage
Of otherwise
Healthy plants
And once unable
To contain
Their original intent
Begin showing
Tiny glimpses
Of green
Peeking through
In an attempt
To steal sunlight
From the buds
Preparing to open
Tricky they are
These weeds
Precision is required
To squash any
Irreparable damage
They might cause
It’s hard work
Pulling them out
By their roots
But only after
The labor is done
Will the heart
Be able to heal
And love bloom

Any guesses as to what I did this morning? I have no green thumb, but I enjoy the flowers in our front flowerbed. So, this morning I decided to pull weeds and do some trimming. Whew! What a job!

It seemed like each time I pulled weeds from an area, more would appear. And certain ones, well, their roots were strong. I’m not sure I got them all. Truthfully, I know I didn’t. But it did make me think about my heart.

It is easy to allow weeds to get in, tying me in knots. Wrapping around the good, trying to stifle it with confusion, anger, or impatience. A simple reminder to keep doing the hard work. And then stand back and enjoy the flowers. 🌸

GARDEN

Seeds planted
In my soul
By my own
Hands or the
Hands of others
Sources of hope
Sources of bitterness
Sowing promises
Of strength
And purpose
Or choking out
Beauty with
Fear and doubt
I must choose
Which to tend
Which to feed
Which to water
And carefully
Place in the sun
Because those will
Sprout their way
Out of my heart
Thru my expressions
Thru my words
Thru my actions
Determining what
Kind of garden
Others see in me