My Secret Garden |
By Sarah Eby |
In memory of Ricky |
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 tears in a meadow of despair? I am alone in my garden because I’ve lost my way, my baby. |