what if
the words you had written
in the depths
of breakdown
of desperation
of hopeless dream

what if
those words
found purchase in the soil
sprouted into a plant
bear fruit
bear blossom

could you
would you
take a bite of the apple
of your misery
smell the fragrance
of your desire

i have planted an orchard
tended the rows of seedlings
lovingly
for so long
with no expectation
of yielding a harvest

yet now
i walk the once barren rows
to see green
speaking
to each new growth
encouragement

i wonder
what horror
what beauty
what blight
what contentment
may push it’s way into the sky

my garden
has lain empty
for so long
my green thumb
worn to brown
from misuse

now i sprinkle tears
upon the fledglings
in hope
they may take succor
from my joy
so absent for too long