Ishaisms, Poetry, Reflections

O GARDENER!

Dear reader, Shelley once wrote, “I fall upon the thorns of life, I bleed.”

For years, I felt this way too and ended up wallowing in my sorrow. Questions of ‘Why me?’ haunted the dark corners of my mind and kept me from vacating this state for good. It was only in time that the clouds of disillusionment dissipated and I realised that my life had traveled far away without me, and all I had become was a spectator at my own show…

I had forgotten to show up for my own life and each new day had flowered and died, without me being there to water it and make it blossom.

How barren my garden looked! A mere heath that boasted only of unruly growths in unseen patches, grown magnanimous by my tears – a wildly tangled mess!

I had waited for the gardener all these years, dear reader, only to realise that no one was coming. I was all I had, and all I had had to show up if I was to revive and retain my garden.

Bit by bit I began clearing up the mess, uprooting the weeds, trimming and pruning what needed to be gone, and ‘burying the dead’ so to speak, so that the new could grow off of its nutrients.

And I did it every day.

That summer, my garden bloomed with life once more, and the sun shone so bright each day that the dark corners of my mind were also lit up. Rainy tears of joy helped water the flowers that blossomed to their full potential. I beheld my garden in its autumnal beauty and the winter winds that year were kinder to me. By spring, the fruits of labour shone bright upon the trees of my garden, whose boughs drooped as if to take a bow, and whose produce benefited not only me, but all those around me.

In that very poem, dear reader, Shelley also wrote, “If winter comes, can spring be far behind?”

Spring isn’t far behind, I’ve learned, but the fruits of spring lie in the labour of the dark winters, and its beauty is beheld by every gardener who shows up.

Like the sun that rises every morning, and the stars that sparkle in the nights,

like the seasons that march in, unfailing; never saying no, or putting up a fight;

wake, O Gardener of your life, labour in your garden, and you’ll see,

how all your drooping plants, that had given up hope, have finally learned to breathe!

© Isha Garg

Doodles by Isha Garg

This post is dedicated to the dear followers of Ishaisms. Thank you so much! Cheers.

59 thoughts on “O GARDENER!”

  1. All I remember was something I wrote long back :
    Spring can never resurrect
    frozen leaves of the Winter
    It can only bring advances of
    upcoming Summer
    Who waits to listen
    the displeasure of the Rainy sky
    and Fall again , all over.
    I choose not to say a word in praise for this one because no word can do justice to the emotions portrayed here.❤️
    This resonates with me and is definitely going into my saved section.🌼 Bravissimo Isha❤️
    (No one other than yourself can save you from the miseries.)

    Liked by 2 people

  2. So gentle a read, and… so perfect in my estimation, as a lover of metaphor and stories with happy endings.
    But of course, this is not an ending, this is an epiphany of life’s value. And how a seedling can flourish even in the crack of a concrete pathway. That the roots of a great Oak may someday crack the very cement itself…
    Ishaisms is now officially a drug of wholesome health for my soul. I will always cherish such heartfelt writing for its uncommon ability to tap the core of your essence, sweet Isha.
    Can you hear that … listen? Applause from afar ❤

    Liked by 3 people

  3. Feedback from writers like you make me understand my work better. ❤ How powerfully you write! The images linger long after the words have been said..When you write,
    kaleidescopic images that your words create in my mind thrill me, and I must remind myself how lucky I am to have you not just here, but as my friend (and daughter 😛). Ishaisms may be your drug but your words are mine. Thank you, thank you, my dearest friend! ❤

    Like

    1. Takes one who writes from the heart to know one, Walt! This was written, drawn and rhymed with all my love for my readers, of which you’ve been a constant North Star! 💛 Thank you my dear friend!

      Liked by 1 person

  4. If everyone could put across a point so gracefully, yet with such conviction then the world would have been a blooming garden itself. Like all the earlier comments, I too could not hold myself back in praising the writing, the doodles and the beautiful message in my words.
    Reading this post made the weeds in ESP-garden wiggle like daisies 😀

    Liked by 3 people

  5. Beautifully articulated thoughts that touched my heart, seem more like poetry! I am glad the gardener has arrived, though he resides within us, we try to shove him away from the path we choose but it is only after treading the thorny path do we seek the balm. Such experiences define what life is!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you, Balroop, your words made me think… Shoving the gardener’ away and realising their value only after “treading the thorny path”. What a powerful expression! You said it, and how! ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Isha, is all about perspective and attitude. I once lived in the “Why Me” phase. Once a person breaks free from that type of thinking one frees oneself to perfect the garden.
    This was a wonderful retrospective. Happy to read about your own personal evolution,
    Perhaps, that is one of the reasons your writing has been richer and inspiring as of late.
    Be well. Be happy. You deserve it.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I agree wholeheartedly, Drew. What you’ve been through shows in your work and your approach to fellow writers on WordPress too – a certain understanding, a certain empathy. Thank you so much for a very profound comment. Ishaisms is privileged to have you.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. The before and after doodle sums up your beautiful post Isha. Guess only we are responsible for steering our life. We always have to remember that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Really enjoyed reading this uplifting post dear 💖

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Wow! “I had forgotten to show up for my own life and each new day had flowered and died, without me being there to water it and make it blossom.” That Hug home. Beautiful writing Isha

    Liked by 1 person

  9. This is just fabulous, Isha. It’s a beautiful thought and a lesson everyone can and should learn. I especially loved “I had forgotten to show up for my own life and each new day had flowered and died.”
    Too good!

    Liked by 1 person

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