roses and weeds
sometimes I feel like I suffer from “spiritual tourettes.”
things just pop into my heart and soul and out of my mouth,
i call it prayer.
maybe it’s the sun on my back; favorite music in my ears
and the roses and weeds as Lucy looks on.
sometimes I forget to remember and remember to forget.
sometimes I just am, not today, not now.
some days are just not important and for no reason at all.
this is not one of them, not today, not now.
you’ve been waiting all year, me too.
it’s your birthday.
not sure who’s more excited?
does it matter….not today, not now.
it just is.
no cards, no presents not today, not now.
no words, no big parties not today, not now.
no hugs, no big smiles, no reaching out
not today, not now.
what I do offer is forgiveness.
it was growing in my garden among the weeds.
did you know forgiveness is a four letter word for love?
the anger got pulled with the weeds.
the forgiveness I found among the roses.
the music’s sweet in my ears
in the garden I call my heart.
from roses and weeds.