Tamara Willems

on the path of my existence…

We often have, my dear husband and I 
a difference of opinion 
in the garden 
and thank goodness really, 
as how boring would we be otherwise 
I have a great affection for the things that roam 
rather 
freely 
self-seed, grow up and through 
I happen to like things that grow 
together 
that support and enhance each other’s 
natural existence and 
beauty,  
don’t really like bare, open spaces 
as you well know, I like kindness, I like love 
I also like a peaceful, undisturbed sort of  
landscape, and he 
thankfully, to some extent 
does as well 
we tend to work out any differences  
with  
compromise for the most part 
where he will rip things out while (he thinks) I am not looking 
and I will…  on occasion 
adapt to his ideas of the necessity of  
cutting things back and
letting go
allows for a pretty good partnership, I think

What I like most about the flowers and my gardens 
I suppose, 
is the complete lack of judgement 
you will find  
here 
there is no better, or best 
no ideas of impossible perfection 
no real  
favourites 
nor any wish to control 
you will see holes chewed in leaves 
stems that have curled 
apples with  
spots 
makes them no less sweet to those that 
wish to gather 
quite rarely do we ward off any pests 
(although occasionally you might hear me 
speaking rather harshly to the Japanese beetles through gritted teeth) 
instead, often we marvel at just how 
things adapt, recover, overcome 
nature’s great strength, when given  
half a chance 
nor does the wildness of my small patch 
look scornfully at the neighbour’s 
much more 
manicured bit of loveliness 
never would I wish us to all be  
exactly the same 
 
as people, we are not always 
so kind 
we do like our opinions 
our comparisons, and our judgements 
we think we know 
best 
always I wonder, how this 
serves
to cast judgement on another 
to what  
gains 

never would I expect the phlox 
to become more like 
a black-eyed susan, or the rose 
like a dandelion, just because 
they have grown 
together for years 
each adorned by their own particular 
colour, nature, sense of 
dress 

there is that thing, you know 
about a flower 
being brave enough 
to open itself to the world
at all
not knowing whether it will be 
met by  
the gentleness of a bright sky shining 
or something much more 
forbidding 
waiting to cast its shadow 

yet wherever it finds itself 
it opens  
still 
 
naïve or just trusting I guess, 
in the  
merciful compassion 
of those  
that choose the path 
of graciously 
causing no 
harm 

this, I will tell you 
the path of my existence
is always,  where 
I will 
begin

taking my steps ♥

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