I spent the afternoon in my garden yesterday; tilling soil and contemplating the opportunity quite literally at hand.

Against the paled grey slats of the back garden fence, the yellow rose celebrated her climb. And bowing before the light that had served her, she cried – showering the earth with her satin tears.

Behind her, a Maple stretched offering the comfort of its ‘arms’ – the centuries old guardian knowing only too well this burden of loss.

It occurred to me that we often lack the trust; looking back to verify that which the eyes should plainly see – this present moment, unedited, absent the ‘frame’ of societal order.

Instead, we are lured by the incessant chatter and restlessness of mind.

Soon the gardens shall be full again, and these tests of faith nearly forgotten.

Though, these roots shall always remain…

In peace, my friends…

Namaste ❤