there in the heart of scorched deadwood did he find blooming ambition.
a weeping cherry stood unburned amongst blackened bark, it's petals a roaring fire of their own creation. and in it's shadow did a dryad stand in awe.
he knew then in the core of his being that this was where nature had guided him to stay. to nourish old life into new, to illiuminate a path for those who'd lost the light.
he would remain as gardener. as keeper. as devout.
in the forest of battle-worn sentinels would he stand tall. here was to be flourishing soul. here was to be rebirth.
here was to be home.
a weeping cherry stood unburned amongst blackened bark, it's petals a roaring fire of their own creation. and in it's shadow did a dryad stand in awe.
he knew then in the core of his being that this was where nature had guided him to stay. to nourish old life into new, to illiuminate a path for those who'd lost the light.
he would remain as gardener. as keeper. as devout.
in the forest of battle-worn sentinels would he stand tall. here was to be flourishing soul. here was to be rebirth.
here was to be home.
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