I went back into my past and planted a garden there –
The memories were dead and dried.
And all along the fields
Where dreams laid scattered and buried,
I gathered up their bones
And prayed them back to life.
In an old shed I found a rusty tin bucket of tears,
Stored up waiting for that magical tomorrow.
With it, I watered the soil
Parched with regret and shame,
Sowing seeds of faith,
Where there grew weeds of sorrow.
Now when I revisit the memories are sweet
Fragrant with life, laughter,
Hope and promise.
The dreams are alive,
Singing and dancing with praise,
And the grains of faith are ripe for the harvest.
I went back into my past and planted a garden there…
Now as the future blooms eternal –