Blooming

Preface

The garden inside of me looks like… this was one of the prompts from the last gathering of The Wellspring Story Circle facilitated by the lovely Becky Gardner. Seven women chose to spend their Wednesday evening at Craft Studio, nestled in downtown Leesburg, to write what was on our hearts during this Spring season. We bravely held space for each other as tears were shed and we vulnerably shared the whisperings of our souls. Together we connected with each others’ words and shared the vision of both our inner and outer gardens.

I wanted to share my 15 minutes of writing with you because it’s been many months since I’ve written from a prompt. I journal most mornings, but it is always the prompts that open me up, like a blossoming flower that’s been waiting all winter to show you her inner petals.

Blooming by Dominique Lategano

The garden inside of me looks like a tangle of wild raspberry bushes, their thorns thick and fruit juicy. I can hear the buzz of the honeybees reminding me that there is always something in motion. The warm sun casts shadows of the flowers as they dance in the gentle breeze. This garden grows as it pleases. Paramaters of perfect rows long gone, no pruning here, just the tantalizing scents and smells of fresh florals.

There are tender roses, begging to be gently caressed, but only by one who can avoid the sting of clenching too hard. The sprawling herbs each have an ingredient to add to the recipe of mouthwatering dishes just waiting to be served.

The outskirts of the garden have big oak trees with mossy carpets underneath. I am grateful for their protection and reminder of how small I am. My barefeet love the squishy green under my toes. I lay down melting into the bed of tiny lichen all joined together in unity.

I hear birds chirping and start to sing along. This is my gold, my favorite part of it all. Hearing the harmonies blend and dance as my human voice matches theirs. I am grateful.

I begin to daydream of all the lovers who promised me forever and then slipped away like the whispers of the wind. Buried now beneath the soil. My mind remembers death is just the beginning, a portal to the beyond. I smile knowing the angels, my angels, are watching me. I feel the opening of my heart as my tears start watering the soil. This is it. The moment of humanness that one only feels when emotion rises viscerally through our blood and into our throat. Overtook with waves of sorrow and joy, my toes are now muddy as I begin to dance.

It starts to rain and I feel the coolness set in. My skin covered in goosebumps, I yearn for someone to dance with me. A warm heart to beat next to mine, a hand to hold. My eyes sting from my salty tears and I remember that blossoming and breaking open go hand in hand,

A black snake slithers in the distance. I walk over to say thank you for showing me how to shed again and again the layers of my heart. Teaching me how to love from beginning to end.

Author’s Note

Thank you for spending a moment with me. I would love to hear what came up for you while reading. If you are interested in reaching out please join my email list below. <3