The Time To End

And what happens when it is the Time To End?

Which tools will you use to rip the beds of your Garden to shreds? What edges of which blades will you use to slice through all which was once Fertile and Grand and Glorious…that which bloomed and blossomed and stretched towards the Light with its face full of summer’s young promises?

Will you weep?

Will you lament?

Will you curse all of existence for the audacity to require you to experience such a thing? Will you listen to the roots scream as you rip them from their homes? Will your sobs make you shudder like the Trees who watch your Crimes in Silence?

What happens when it is the Time to End?

Winter is coming. We all must prepare. We can no longer afford to languidly stretch our limbs on our porches and remark how much shorter the daylight seems to us now. Night is nearly upon us. We must be ready.

It will be cold.

It will be dark.

It can be silent.

It need not be lonely.

What happens when it is the Time to End? And how has your Garden readied you to meet It?

Happy Writing