My Patchwork Garden

My Patchwork Garden

Come, let me show you around my garden
But don’t be surprised if at times it appears more like a skirt or a quilt
I am a patchwork person
Neither a round, nor a square peg
I don’t fit the holes
Pearls of wisdom
I sew, like beads, on my skirt
Or decorate my pots or rockery
And when I need wisdom or knowledge
I don’t realise what I already have
Until someones asks, what’s that?
And I find that I had what I was looking for all the time
That sounds scatty, but I’m not
Contradictory, yes
I hate rejection so am bad at choices
I hold opposing views
Yet find satisfaction in bringing order out of chaos
I’m never satisfied for long
Must always investigate what’s round the next corner
Through the archway
What can be done with this corner
Or that
Yet my garden has tranquil spaces
Deep pools
And reflective ones
Places of inner silence

I wrote this after someone suggested that talking in depth about our life is somewhat similar to showing someone around our garden. How would you describe your garden of life?

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About Rosalie Squires

'Who am I?' is a question whose answer keeps evolving, that can be answered in many, many ways; that has no known answer at all. But there are some clues to be found: stocksharpsquires.wordpress.
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4 Responses to My Patchwork Garden

  1. You have me thinking. 🙂

  2. RoSy says:

    Ooh – My garden has been though so many phases. But – there are always roses with thorns on them to keep me safe 🙂

    • Well that’s an intriguing response. Roses with thorns relating to bittersweet memories I can well imagine, and associate with you, but how to envisage the thorns keeping you safe? Safe from what? We must all be prepared to live with the thorns if we want the roses in our gardens but you seem to ascribe them a positive, protecting property of their own?

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