Poetry: #118 She Who Walked in the Garden (Hesitate and Grasp 10)
A selection from the collection: Hesitate and Grasp
Preface
The struggle is real. The battles of relationships, society, and personal challenges are real. This collection explores all that and concludes pretty concisely:
“Do not hesitate. Do not grasp.”
Or, as Yoda might say in a much clearer way:
“Do or do not, there is no try.”
She Who Walked in the Garden
In the garden there was a life that searched far and wide And at the end of her days she could do nothing but hide From what, and who she hid, a mystery Lurking in the silence of night, an entity From humble beginnings to endless roads of choice before her She moved with ease in the light of the day avoiding the lure For in this garden lurked that, entity of dismay And she was not about to let it get a say Taking heart the words of her faith she spun her legs forward Careful not to trample over that which was already laid Adventure and new paths to find called inward And only once she had already paid Not in the money of the day or your currency But in the one thing she had no others could carry Deceitful as the enemy were her memories Were the currency she doled out carefully Nothing left to search for, she left the garden untended The weeds and beasts, and mysteries, grew unperturbed Sacrifice was only the beginning of the journey Loss of her past a price to pay for eternity Helpless and strong and weak and secure, She stumbled on A reminder of the past, of what once was While remembering none of the lessons No rhyme or reason to the madness She followed the darkness, and the entity Until all was undone…
Question Section
The mysteries of consciousness are just that—mysteries. Obscure and winding they may be, but sometimes we find our thoughts linger where we hate to look. Our memories can lie to us, we can see things that aren’t always there upon retrospection as our minds fill in the pieces of what we believe or want to be there. When have you realized your memory of an event simply wasn’t accurate? Was it the Mandela Effect or simply misremembering? Did you fill in the blanks and make assumptions that, in retrospection, made no sense? Share your tales of past events you’ve found to be inaccurately recounted in the comments below!
What are your thoughts on this poem?
Another poem drops every Saturday and there’s short stories, essays, and What the Book Podcast drops too!
This feels like you were staring deep into one's soul. That has to be violating.