Garden Soul
Sweet soul, you’re lost again, your heart tangled in your ego’s vines, your mind cluttered with the weeds of uncertainty, the thorns of the world, the poison of perception. Did you know that you’re a garden, soul? Formed to be toiled. Created to be kept. But whatever grows or does not grow, whatever blooms or dies, is not up to you. It’s up to the sun and the rain and the air, the ground and the sky, timing and luck, She and Him and They. You’re lost because you’re thinking a