Garden After Death

My garden grew

But only because my maple tree died

The tree cracked, split into three pieces

So I wouldn’t have to

She embodied my pain, the brokenness inside

The shrinking and the growing

That sometimes breaks you

The ice that threatens to take over

The tree cracked as a warning:

Don’t you crack, too!

Look at me!

Wait.

Wait.

It’s not near perfect

It has the most weeds of any garden around

But you did tend to it just a little bit

The sun didn’t have to work as hard to help the flowers grow

(Now that the maple tree is gone)

No leaves stood in the way

The rays had no obstacles, just a straight shot

To the flowers the bees love so much

You cultivated what you could

What you had time for

What you allowed space for

A few bright flowers grew

It wasn’t much

But it was close to enough

by Melinda Haas