My garden blooms as the birds start to sing. Awaiting the summer, in the kiss of spring. A vibrant display, in the wake of the cold And there I rest, as stories are told. Whispering to me, their bits of truth. A thrumming thought, the folly of youth. Remembrances of days now past. Mistakes that made, these questions asked. I often wonder, how i became. This peace seeking soul, the wild untamed. Where wounds gnaw at the edge of me. Where lives entwined live separately. To wonder where the blame is lain. To wish I never played the game. Perhaps destiny will only know. But as I watch the flowers grow, I feel a stirring in my chest, One that shall not be put to rest. As my garden blooms, and birds will sing. I will retire everything. For even when it starts to snow. I will remain, and I shall grow.