When I suddenly find I’ve an axe to grind

With the world and all that’s in it

And I’m sick of life with its grief and strife

And would leave it in a minute,

To ease my hurt - I dig in the dirt

And grapple with lusty weeds

And chop the sod with a vengeful hoe

And grind the grub with a bitter heel

Into the dust……because I must

I can tell you guess how much better it makes me feel?

Then I scatter seeds believing they’ll grow

I know they’ll grow…they’ve done it before

So- my faith swings back to the proven track

And I am my steady self once more.

For this intimate question I beg your pardon

But what do you use ... instead of a garden?

Author ~ Unknown