Monday, April 13, 2015

#100daysofjensmusings- Day 8: Short Piece

The rain hits the earth, the smell of dirt and spring rises from the ground up.
He planted this year - bulbs, herbs, kale. On his knees, day after day. 
Not knowing at all if it would all bloom. He did it for her. 
The garden, you know, was for her. A birthday gift.
Yet, she is too busy, working too much, out too many nights in a row.
Tired on the weekends, living by her to do list. 
Places to go, people to see, things to do. But never in her garden. Or by her notebook.
"Honey, you should rest, take it easy, sit in your chair," he would say. 

Day in and day out, she would wake up before him, 
Doing her morning practices but not being in her morning practices.
There's a difference you know.
Her thumb checking traffic as she brushes her teeth. 
A quick kiss goodbye. She always kissed him goodbye because
all the books and articles say, "You never know."

Friday would come. Saturday would come. 
There was yoga, grocery shopping, e-mails and phone calls to friends and family.
"Come outside and plant with me," he said.

And so she went outside and opened a bag of dirt.
She took the deepest breath she had taken in months. 
Fell to her knees and started to cry. Silently.
Life rushed through her veins and cells again.
This is how life was meant to be lived.

They laughed in the garden. That day and many days after.
He saw her transform into a new soul - ice skating through life versus trampling on it.
He fell in love with her all over again.
Because of the garden. And her being in it.

1 comment:

Rosaria said...

That is beautiful!