And I will shed this winter coat,
blooming like never before
in the golden rays of spring.
Fore the Gardener has given me a place,
out of the pot,
in the field
with the wildflowers
whose petals cannot be tamed.
To some, this is a downgrade,
but they cannot feel
the new soil between my roots.
"You do not look like them," they tell me.
Maybe so.
But I feel freer standing with them.
Those who are judging look only with their eyes
and cannot see that
this is more than a replanting.
It is a rebirth!
YOU ARE READING
Replanting
PoetryLooking and seeing only with the eyes can be a limitation that we are only partially aware of. It is something we have to consciously subdue, or we may never see the truth.
