I’ll make you a garden,
In which you can tread
On green things that aromas send.
In which you’ll find refreshing shade
Amidst life’s burdens heavy laid.
You’ll see abundant birds and bees,
And squirrels skittering up the trees.
The flowers glorious will be there,
Their fragrance hanging in the air.
The fruits and vegetables will grow —
Might be a few weeds; I don’t know.
There’ll be a bench where you can sit,
And rest your weary bones a bit.
The wind will rustle through your hair;
Accept its presence, if you dare.
You’ll take deep breaths and drink the air —
Finding yourself, you’ll have no care.
I miss you so.
You’ve wandered long,
You’ve wandered far.
You’re weary now.
Your fevered brow
Has far too long
The sorrow born.
You need to rest,
To find your best.
To find your peace,
To end your quest.
Lay weary head
Upon My breast.
All things must pass;
Come home at last.
When your soul is weary,
When life is dull and dreary,
When your eyes get teary,
Take the time, take the time —
To smell the air,
To feel the wind in your hair,
To see the beauty of a flower.
To feel the sun on your skin –
Don’t let the light grow dim.
Take a minute, take an hour,
To stop your soul from getting sour.
Everything will one day die
Even you, and even I.
And will it matter at that time
The thing today that seemed so dire?
Let it go, let it go.
You don’t need to make a show
Of how good you are, and how brave.
Don’t let your pride kill the joy inside.