Wildflower Weeds

She bought a bag of wildflower seeds. 
How lovely would that be, thought she?
In the back yard mini plot,
it was the perfect spot.
The timing was just right,
 and the day bright.
Much thought and preparation had been done;
A long journey, she just had begun.
The seeds were planted with care.
Every which way, seeds here and seeds there.
She watered each day;
she yelped for joy when the sun shone a ray.
Green sprouted and grew,
This was it! She just knew.
It felt right, it looked right.
The path was still light. 
Weeks passed by. There were storms and rainy days.
But all with a purpose. The rains helped in many ways. 
Good signs and more growth but no flowers for this lady.
Why oh why she wondered, just weeds and not one daisy. 

Another month passed,
The time was going by so fast.
The skies were dark, the sun hid.
Many rains fell and the garden undid.
Many tears and pouted faces,
Her husband saddened, and embraces.
She raked out the weeds and tended the soil. 
She mourned and rested.
Her hard work felt wasted.

But this is life;
The coming and going;
The living and dying.
All in God's hands she knows,
In his perfect timing, He will give a rose.
With new soil and open arms, she's done her part.
Here lies her longing heart...


This poem has far greater meaning that I'll some day share about. For now, this is my story.