The mind, a garden, overgrown and wild, Where seeds of thought, haphazardly compiled, Once bloomed in ignorance, a tangled mess, Of youthful arrogance, and foolishness. I wasn’t always thinking as I do, The paths of reason, then, were lost to view. My compass spun, direction undefined, A headstrong spirit, leaving sense behind. Far from perfection, still the journey calls, I’ll never grasp the sum of what enthralls. Yet looking back, a gulf I clearly see, From that rash self, that younger, heedless me. Young and unyielding, with no time to spare, No patient ear, no burden to bear. I charged ahead, a bull within a shop, Ignoring warnings, destined to misstep. But time, a healer, granted me its grace, To prune the weeds, and find a clearer space. To cultivate the soil with care and pain, And nurture wisdom, born from wind and rain. I thank the stars, the breath, the guiding light, For chances given, to make choices right. And kneeling down, with humbled heart I pray, That dawn w ill...