As life tautens its string and pulls me along,
I delay thoughts of my funeral gong
with a story, a rhyme, a poem or a song,

creativity being the one way I know
to write my own ending for the end of the show.
Our quota of years, that cessation of flow,

that furtive departure, that summons to go,
that human surrender to the undertow,
need not be an ending to all that we know.

That’s why I have chosen to come here and stow
what little I’ve learned in an orderly row
of words on this page, following head to toe,

that tell parts of my life, be they pleasure or woe.
I plant them here, hoping that they will grow
into tall verdant meadows that you’ll want to mow.

Prompt words today are creativity, human, furtive, tauten and quota.

6 thoughts on “Gardener

  1. koolkosherkitchen

    Very deep – poignant and wise at the same time. I just got an unusual birthday gift for my grandson, and as I showed it to The Boss, I said something like, “Ariel will have it to remember me by when I am not around,” and The Boss nearly tore my head off. He doesn’t like to hear it, but I am thinking about the end more and more. I am fine, though, don’t worry!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Anonymous

    Rather than mow, I think that I shall wallow. Miss you! Glad to have you on the page, at least, in service to my sanity up here in the frozen North. Yes, the ocean outside my door is magnificent–but it is not home.

    Liked by 1 person


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