Brighter Days

 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 break on even brighter days.