Painting, Poetry

In a Garden

I’ve been rereading my writing from the past few years during this time of Covid-19. I’m throwing out what I don’t like and whittling down my notebooks. This week I came upon a poem I’d written in 2015 that I had forgotten since it was lost amidst a mountain of writing. It resonated for me in this incredible and shocking time. I’ve placed it with an oil painting I made over ten years ago. Here they are.

We are walking in a garden we are blind to

though it bears our names.

And the suffering,

the suffering is great,

but the unveiling of the heart is greater.

4 thoughts on “In a Garden”

    1. Thank you very much. It’s great to see your drawings again and to hear about your life in the countryside. I am one of those in an apartment in a big city–Toronto. Fortunately, my walks in my neighbourhood take me past gardens large and small, trees and singing birds. All the best for your good health and condolences about the loss of your dear cat.

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