I accepted a writing challenge to write the first words that came to mind when I read. .
. . . home – welcome
. . . soil – garden
. . . rain – growth
Welcome Spiritual Growth in the Garden of My Soul
I have lingered in my own inner desert,
Clinging to dried up habits.
This dry soil has been my home
With little growth or change.
Yet I yearned for the rain of the Spirit
To soak the hard crust of fear,
The seeds of thoughts germinate
Assimilated emotions, reflections,
Connect with quotes and philosophy
All become integrated.
Then words sprout
Grow into stories
The creative process is subconscious
I am coming back to life
Through the flow of words.