My Secret Garden
My sorrow is
my secret garden
where I go
when I feel alone.

There I find
the brook of tears,
the soft blossom of a broken heart,
and fields of emptiness.

My secret garden
grows freely
in the darkness
of my baby’s death.

Where do I find
a single bud of hope
watered by my tears?
Hiding there,
in a meadow of despair.

I am alone
in my garden
because I’ve lost
my way.
Please take my hand
and walk with me
along my path today.