The Sight That Hurts Poem by bonifacio alba

In the garden I remember
You're weeding out grasses
-Under the morning sunlight.
The usual chores you did
A daily routine in the morning
-And makes you easy to find.
But now you're gone,
The garden now unattended
The sight of it hurts me
More from time to time
Because the place is empty
You're no longer there
-For me to see, my mother.
Time lapsed and grasses grew
Covering the plants once rescued
Not allowing the photosynthesis
-A process for plant to thrive.
Harvest time no more...
The plants died, no one to succor
I said to myself, why stop the task
What my mother has started?
What she was doing was teaching
The importance of dedication
To any activities on hand
To attend to it with persevere
Because in the end...
Expect its fruit to bear.