Tangled Weeds

haibun

Image from Pixabay.

The love from my heart grows like the tangled weeds in the garden and I do not fear for its resilience or tenacity. Year after year reseeding, sometimes it flourishes where it is unwanted, has become an annoyance, hiding that which is more pure and perfect, that which is more desirable. The love from my heart grows like tangled weeds in the garden — but let it not be for nothing.

cold times bring on the
loneliness of dormancy,
the promise of warmth.