behind the you
that knows the way.
My happy dog has it
without even thinking.
Her nose just knows
the way to go.
It's pink outside
and a single chirp is bouncing off the porch.
The Rose of Sharon has been slowly dying back for the last two seasons.
This was a problem to handle at first.
Until to my delight,
from their earthy womb
came new/old perennials,
long planted and long hidden.
Bunches of blue iris',
bushes of pink budded roses
and patches of suitably named
surprise lilies
that only needed some room to breathe from under that
invasive leafy tower.
And it gave me hope
that those things planted in my spirit long ago,
are not lessons learned, long forgotten.
But only crowded out and covered over,
ever-bearing,
compass-guiding,
hardy bulbs that cannot die.
There is a You
behind the you
that knows the way.
