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Love Is True. And I'm Just Thinking In A Garden.

Laziness is true, too.

By Michael O'ConnorPublished 3 months ago 3 min read

The hoe in the gardener's hands gently nestles itself into the soil of the garden; the giver of life and nourishment broken into millions of tiny fragments all coming together as one to help the leafy greens grow. Swing, swing, swing. Such otherwise tiring work is complete in each moment with peaceful ease. Less than with great effort it continues on its path between the gray spot connecting sky and land and the floor of dirt below. I sit back and observe whilst pinching hairs on my chin in twos and threes to search for the rogues and the strays left behind after the clipping process days ago. I seek and I find and I pluck the lengthy wires. Perhaps the process is for pain or to be present, perhaps it is to be groomed so neatly and clean or perhaps it is simply to watch the moment of time that is both trapped and unfolding in the present.

We’re all just tired man. We’re all just tired of living to grind and grinding to live. We just wanna be free man. Hey, bozo, yeah you! Aren’t you tired of it? Tell me no but I know it ain’t so. Cos this is it man, this is the truth of it all. Laziness is truth and you know it. I know it. I mean we know it. Hey bozo! Don’t you know that this is it? That laziness is truth? Don’t you know? Hey bozo, you’re alive right now, did you know that? Do you know what that means? I don’t know. But I do know that you’re living. That’s certainly almost true. I know that it’s possible you’re living. But I’m certain you too know that laziness is truth. This is honest it is. Laziness is the only truth. We know it and we’re tired. Just relax..

I want the brothel.. Or a massage with brothel-like tendencies. If I’m being honest.. Can I be honest? I do try to be. If I’m being honest, and telling the truth.. OK, I’ll tell you the truth. It’s just a way to.. Well it’s either the best way, the only way, or just one of the ways that I can feel nurtured and loved. I need to be nurtured and loved. My Mum’s dead and that’s not my excuse but I do need to be loved. That’s the truth and I am being honest. What it really means is that on the inside, if I’m being honest.. There’s a screaming little boy who just needs to be nurtured. We all need to be nurtured. Don’t we? Well yeah, since I’m telling the truth and being honest, we do. The screaming child in me isn’t screaming too much now, here in the garden. That’s maybe the truth too.

It’s a pleasant start to the evening. And I know it’s pleasant because it looks pleasant and it feels pleasant and I feel pleasant. Yeah. Peaceful exchanges through looks of the eyes and the watching of actions and the laughing at the little, simple things is what makes it, and me so pleasant. And the watching over the garden as it grows and the nod to say it’s okay and the cool air on a warm enough night, they do make it, and me feel pleasant too. The slow walking or maybe dragging of footsteps in thongs and the bright orange glow spreading from the open calendula flowers make it, and me feel pleasant. And so I know that it and me are both pleasant and feeling so. The calendula flowers remind me of home and bring the sweet smelling memories of my mother. My mother was pleasant too.

Love is true, too. Love is love and can be explained only apparently by a white coat claiming chemical reaction. But love is more and love is true. Love is the only real thing, really. I mean when you think about it. For if I felt love for nothing then it might be that I do not feel at all. It may be that for having lost I have loved, for having found after seeking that I have loved. For having truth and laughter and joy one time and more that I have loved and it is true. Love is true, and also relaxation and laziness. I have a love for laziness and love is true therefore laziness is true. I know love like no other, for I am love and love is me. The truth we see in the evening stars and the day’s light is a truth and honesty only matched by a feeling and truth. That true feeling is love.

Stream of Consciousnessnature poetrylove poemsFree Verse

About the Creator

Michael O'Connor

If you like my content, you can purchase my published short story in ebook or paperback on Amazon!


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