inspired by a walk through winter gardens
With winter slowly creeping in we stroll gently down the darkening paths – frosted in the early morning light long gone is the green and brightly colored roses, now is the time to count the buds that never bloomed maybe in the coming spring we could try again. though the garden that we planted those years ago had been filled with love – intention was fleeting and somewhere along the way the further we dug, the deeper our secrets became our roots tangled and lost – unable to even reach towards the light – and intention was lost, our garden obligation and regret. the longer our roots remained in the dark those buds that never bloomed became a reminder of everything we lacked - some gardens grow to be their own Eden and others, paradise lost. still, we walk, hand in hand, never saying what we should, and we have learned to live with the buds that never bloomed.
