Rebekah Whittle

She holds a garden in her mind
And patiently waits to watch it grow
Each thought, a seed
She listens for which to water

Visiting daily
The knees of her jeans, stained brown
With soil between her fingernails
She works the grounds, so ideas may flourish

She speaks in color
Choosing words like flowers
Only once they are ready to fall
Giving wisdom with a steady hand

Poem by Rebekah Whittle

When I read this poem I completely
related it to how I feel about all the
ideas that are constantly fluttering
around in the seemingly endless
vastness of space that is my brain.

Awesome