• Kris Freudenthal

The Girl in the Garden

(written in 2016)


The girl in the garden stands at the gate longing to be brave or at least, brave enough to open the iron doors and venture into the beauty, beyond the bars now blocking her heart

The sun shines its gold on the ground just beyond, as the wind whispers its ever present call

"Come"

Her longing leads her feet towards the boundary. She leans on the bars as if they will grant her the permission she believes she needs. They give way under the weight of her timid strength. Dare she enter?

"Come child"

One hand still holds the security she once knew. But her heart pulls her forward. The whisper repeats:

"Come"

Her focus, so intense on the sound. As her feet touch the sweet grass of her dreamland, her hand gives way to the unknown. She does not even recognize her progress until she finds herself standing, face to face, against the back garden wall. Only then does she look back to see how far, so very far, she has ventured into this new beauty.

But still the voice on the wind calls to her:

"Come child"

But how? The wall she never knew existed stands so tall before her, and much stronger than she ever knew. The spikes along the top so sharp. The fears begin their daily dance around her mind and heart. Still the steady voice lovingly gently persistently calls:

"Come"

How she envies the tress growing tall, strong, around the spikes unharmed. How she longs for the freedom of the small robin flying above without hesitation. Again her heart begins to yearn, to ache, to crave more.

"Come child"

The sun warms her face in its love.

"Come"

The wind parades around her, brushing her cheeks with kisses.

"Come child"

She steps. She listens.

She feels the sun's presence. She accepts the wind's love. She is still, in the moment, ignorant of the fears that once enveloped her.

It's in the stillness, in the grace, in the presence of true love like she has never known. It is here that her heart begins to grow, to connect to its true purpose, to recognize why it beats at all.

"Come"

In the peace her feet find courage. And in an instant she is up among the branches she was once only admiring. Climbing towards the light. Climbing towards the voice. Climbing towards the love.

"Come child"

Up and over

"Come child"

Forward. Towards more. Into freedom

"Come"

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