wind playing through reeds
tending the garden with care
spring time is coming
softer breezes now
the sun, such a long-lost friend
i feel blissful warmth
battered blue bucket
sits upon the weathered well
hope of cool waters
ancient sign, still propped
the letters fading away
seasons always pass
memory yet sighs
winter was a heavy thing
cold, cruel, and distant
weeding and pruning
making mulch of memories
better things to come
the ground is thirsty
seedlings rustle ‘neath the soil
so eager to grow
the bamboo garden
place of eternal blooming
an infinite hope