I’ve planted too many bad days. The weeds of cynicism, disengagement, and discontent spring up, choke out.
Yes, the field is teeming with flowers, but it’s also teeming with weeds.
Sometimes I can’t tell the difference.
Cynicism shoots up around me, engulfing me. It strangles the good days, the good seeds, the good hope.
You won’t move.
You aren’t there.
I am trapped trapped trapped.
But I know that is my voice, not Yours.
Yours is the voice of hope, the voice of kindness. Yours is the voice that said to me,
“Relinquish cynicism and WATCH ME MOVE.”
My eyes are peeled.
I pluck the weeds. I replace them with truth.
You will move.
You are there.
I am free free free.