The Field and The Garden

Letting Go and Moving On

The Coming of the Garden

It is not the vines who watch themselves grow;

the petals know not when they are in bloom.

When seasons change, the fields have yet to know,

and the ferns already live in their tomb.

The garden is formed through cultivation,

made by the shaping of the wilderness,

and out of the changing lamentation…

The field bears a fruit born of bitterness. 

The fruit from the fields has the sweetest taste,

like the coming autumn breeze on the tongue.

Though it will not last, may it not be waste,

for little remains when autumn has come. 

When it is time for fields to fall away,

replaced by the coming of the garden.

The leaves will turn gold, the green will not stay,

and they will fall at the season's pardon. 

From the death of the field, many gardens grow,

and change in ways the field dares not to know.

-The last scene: From the Western Garden

The western garden grows, in the field's place,

a home of both monarch and of milkweed.
After seeing the view the garden traced…
There's no doubt the field was meant to concede. 

For the garden is ordered and lavished,
truly a sight that was meant for display.
The song it sings is new and unravaged,
each flower, the center of a bouquet. 

May this scene never bow to the seasons,
this sight of splendor deserves to remain.
May the deaths of the field be the reasons
that change does not come to rule and to reign. 

For if this garden changes once again…
Then the field really meant nothing at all.

 I loved someone once, a long time ago. My book was in part, dedicated to her memory. She belongs in the "Loved for a Time" section of Love Between Darkness not of my own accord. She was my best friend and sole confidant for a long time. But when life became rough for me, and the world crashed down around me.... She left me. I wrote these poems as my way of grieving for my life, and for the loss of someone that I once knew.

The Coming of the Garden Analysis

    I wrote the first stanza to convey my ignorance. I was a fool to think life, moments, and the scenes that make up my life would never change. Often we live so long in the present that we forget that the future is already happening. We are changing and our surroundings are changing slowly, constantly, and somehow all at once. The last line in the first quatrain has two meanings. The first is that being stagnant in life, and not adapting to the change presented to us is the equivalent of death. The second meaning, meant to close out the first quatrain, is meant to convey that even after all of the change, we die anyways.

    The second stanza sets up the characters. I am the field, bitter at the change and dismayed at the garden (my best friend) and her change. I was there for her in those days. Through the tumult of life, I was her backing and she knew it. But one day, she woke up, grew up without me, and left me behind. It was toxic for me to be her support, and it was cruel for her to abandon me. At the time however, I did not see it that way. I saw her. I saw that she needed me. And eventually, I saw that she no longer needed me and was pushing me away. I wrote the second quatrain to convey my bitterness; after all that I had given to her, she had left me behind. I wanted to convey my sorrow while also showing a subtle connection. 

    The wilderness was both me and her, unformed in our humanity and chaotic in our being. Early on in my life I became the field, wild but with purpose. I was with her, and as she was shaped by life, she let go of the wilderness completely and cultivated for herself a garden.

    The third stanza is simple. When she changed and left me, I was bitter, but I felt the bitterness was good. It was bittersweet in a strange way. The loss I felt when she left me, meant that I cared for her deeply. It also meant that the last thing she would leave me with is that bittersweet nostalgia. After that goes, and she is no longer present in my life, I'll have nothing left of her, or the scenes we had shared.

    I wrote the last quatrain as my attempt to justify her abandonment. When it is time for people to leave you, there is no point in asking them to stay. If they wanted to stay, they would. She no longer wanted to be by my side; I couldn't fault her for that, and so the only thing I could do was move on.

    The ending couplet, is my attempt at wishing her well. If you love someone, no matter how much it hurts when they leave, you should wish them well. I hope that through my absence, she would continue to grow, but I am still a human after all, and it would pain me to see how she has changed without me.

The last scene: From the Western Garden History and Meaning

    I wrote this sonnet selfishly. The first two stanzas describe both her, and the last place where I realized she was still mine. I used to refer to our moments together as scenes. While we were together, we were a movie, a drama about a broken girl and a heartless boy. We were main characters in our own little world and everyone around us had roles to play in our slice of life movie.

    The last time I really saw her, and the last time we were best friends, a group of my old college friends decided to go to a place called "The Western Garden" for a birthday party. At the time, she had been avoiding me and I knew it. When I got there, I remember she came up behind me and gave me a push, a little friendly jab. I turned to see her and I remember she had that smile. It was the fake smile she would use when she did not want to be where she was. It was the lie she would give to everyone except for me. It was then that I realized, I had become like everyone. She was avoiding me because I was no longer good nor useful for her. Our time was up, and it was then that I had noticed. I spent that day, in the Western Garden, away from her. It hurt me to know that the movie was done, and I was killed off in the second act for character development reasons. I spent that day writing this poem. In many ways she was like the Western Garden, beautiful, ordered, with only traces of the wilderness I once knew. She was no longer happy being by my side and I knew it. But if she was happy elsewhere, then who am I to be in her way.

    I wrote "The last scene" as my selfish hope. That if she were to change and leave me, at least leave a piece of me with her, just so that I meant something to her in the end.

Letting Go and Moving On

Eventually, I let those scenes go. I don't even hope that I meant anything in the end anymore. The loss and pain of betrayal have long dulled and subsided. I hope that she's out there and she's happy. The only thing that I wish, is that I could have had the courage to give her a proper goodbye.