The Garden of the Mind

With my garden filled with nettles,
I could not see the sky,
For the weeds of doubt were growing,
And the thorns of fear were high.

The soil was full of sadness,
It could only weep and sigh,
As I wandered through my garden,
Where I'd let my spirit die.

Then suddenly a light within,
Showed me what to sow,
And the things I set in season,
Came alive and began to grow.

In the centre of my garden,
I set the tree of love,
And with the tree of truth,
Came wisdom from above.

Here is the tree of faith,
And with hope guides my every way,
And they that walk beside me,
Share in my every day.

There is the tree of compassion,
And its fruits in harmony ring,
And the air above my garden,
Is filled with the voice of spring.

By the tree that speaks of freedom,
Abundance lifts its arms,
And my spirit grows in wonder,
In the knowledge of its charms.

Through the centre of my garden,
The breath of perfection sweeps,
And courage grows with gentleness,
And tears of joy I weep.

By the tender tree of forgiveness,
Life's gentle waters flow,
Now I wander through my garden,
For there's nowhere left to go.

And at last my garden is planted,
With the trees to fullness grown,
And I the gardener gather,
The harvest of that which I've sown.

And when the season of planting is over,
And my garden has finished its toil,
Then shall I live forever,
With all that I took from the soil.

From my scrapbook about 1976-8, the only note adjacent to it is that the verses were submitted by Maureen Wallage, Cullenan to a church newsletter.