Memory Fragments: Probity

Reasons To Garden

I may be gone, but the garden still remains amidst the seasons
When I am nothing more than a withering petal, please remember to water me
For I am also your earth-mother. I have given you existence within my reasons
For that, and many more, I dub the ashen tree. The reason of my pitch-black tea

When I was planted, I remember the soil I was given. Virgin and fertile
Of the many nutrients I was also given, none compared to the water
Tears of joy brought life back. One of the many reasons to smile
Have you given up on the garden, I would have lost my sole daughter

When I first saw the dawning sun, I remember feeling a warm embrace
Huddled up to my wooden support, I did not falter amidst the turbulent wind
Gentle sadness brought life back. One of the many reasons to grace
Have you given up on the garden, I would have lost my mind

When I felt the following darkness, I remember the dread of night
Armed with thorns, I shielded myself from terrors unknown
Bugs and birds brought life back. One of the many reasons to fright
Have you given up on the garden, I would have been eaten to the bone

When I got infected with a plague, I remember the cutting I was given
Small and delicate, I regrew stronger and harder than ever before
Harsh love brought life back. One of the many reasons to have striven
Darker leaves grew too; to brew a black tea, and then sip on it some more

I am truly grateful for all the care and affection you have given me
I am truly arrogant and selfish to keep wanting it all to myself
But your life has given mine back. One of the many reasons to be
You have my pulp to make the pages of that recipe on the bookshelf

A simple, black-leaf tea. Rich in aroma, flavor, and subtle hints of charcoal
It burns the throat at first, but eventually one finds it among its reasons
To sip and sip, endlessly addictive to the soul while it is paying the toll
Be careful. I don't want you sleeping under me throughout the seasons

While life gave me many reasons to garden, you did all the hard work for me
While I stood still, you cared and looked after me even though I am just a dead tree
Winter or spring, my black leaves remain all you ever cared to use and see
Yet, I am without remorse or guilt. I am your tree, and you my reason's key

And so, I survived thanks to you. You, and the many reasons to garden
I am but a simple, withering soul. Not at all like your eternal tree
For that, and many more, I see no reason to grant my last pardon
My tea, from my last black leaf, shall be my reason to be free

Wait until it falls. For it will be most effective at that time
Wait until I am truly gone. For I will be most effective under the soil
My roots shall drag your victims across the fields of thyme
The reason why you made coal out of me. Let the oil boil in the broil

You and me. Although I may be long gone, I will keep my duty
From a delicate flower to a bastion tree, I am the reason to garden
Keep me fed, and I shall keep you. Poison leaves are my innate beauty
But please, do not let the flesh harden. Drink the ashen tea, my sweet Arden