come sit by my garden

Let my gardens speak for me when I am gone

Let them speak in colored whispers of all the beauty I have seen

And felt, and lived

Let them speak of how much death had to find me

How many hard seasons it took to make me a living, breathing thing

Let them speak of my seasons of growth and abundance

But let them also tell of my seasons of loss and decay

Let the soft, wet earth be a reminder of hardness that didn't win

Of sadness that didn't calcify

Of surrender that triumphed over resistance

And let the glorious, fragrant blooms

Speak of my life and its greatest lesson

That the beauty we make never dies

Come sit by my garden