My Garden Poem by Carolyn Brunelle

WRITING unraveled the layers of a mask I wore
so nothing could see or damage best parts of me.
Then one day, I opened the tender breast of a child;
let her breathe the fresh air of a new beginning.

In the baring, I found a prisoner's release;
began other journeys that led to paths
and places buried and forgotten,
lands pristine, protected and sadly untended.

So I cleared the soils of joyless, spoiler roots
tilled away at the toxic, and planted anew;
grasses, trees, shrubs, blossoming flowers.
Here in paradise, expressing my own soul, I grew.