green thumbs

when i was young, i wished to

create somewhere so beautiful

where pain and terror

couldn’t find me.

a big wish for a little body,

now a big body with a little wish:

i want to be glad i stayed.

my grief is not a dead thing,

it is a fertile flowerbed

spouting petals in all directions –

watching me stumble

and give into the dirt.

there are days i will catch thorns

on the rough edges of my life,

but when i return to the soil

she reminds me:

blood is good for the garden.

i have found other gardeners 

too, watching over

their own tender spaces

with care and intention.

when my roots are exposed,

i know there are soft hands

ready to guide the soil

back into place.

we have learnt that 

we bloom best

when we grow together.

when i was young, i wished to

create somewhere so beautiful

where pain and terror

couldn’t find me.

when i look out beyond

the shadow of my life now,

i know that i am not alone

and i am glad i stayed.