Grown Back Garden

The sound of running rain
Set tufts of gold and green
Unruly as my own hair
And beckoning
To be mowed and tidied
Like the other chores and challenges
To elevate my life.

Nothing waits
The sigh of falling water
Shoots of grass and root and weed
Only the mind makes tangles and hassles
When we do not face them
And learn from simple things

Cycle as the passing seasons
Rise and fall like nights and days
As part and steward of nature
Our human roots and earth-bred soil
Should set the pattern, not the barren

By J.W.H Hobbs

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