trying to write a poem/story about a garden/forest that was slowly destroyed to make room for one specific plant that everyone liked. that plant (some sort of ivy) choked out little trees, blocked out the light and crushed small wild flowers, somehow destroyed some thorning plant and overtook the land until there was almost nothing left.
then the ivy is removed and the person is distraught because everything they once had was destroyed to make room for more ivy, the person tends to the soil and forgives themselves for letting the ivy destroy the area and one day they go outside and see sprouts again. a year later the gardener tends to little trees plants and flowers on what was desolate land.
people complained that the thorns are too sharp, the wild flowers bring bees that sting and the little trees take up space. If it's all ivy vines then there are no more bees that sting when you crush the flowers, no more bushes with sharp thorns that demand their space, no more trees to walk around. Just ivy that you can step all over without a care.... Thats what they wanted, but it's not their garden.
the moral of the story is something like, dont cut off pieces of yourself to appease others, if you do your garden (you) will become unrecognizable and it will take a long time to return to what it once was.
a reflection of a gardener who is trying to allow their garden to be diverse and wild again.
Its okay to have boundaries. its okay to have thorns and stingers. Its okay to have rules and standards. Its okay to remove plants and people that do not respect your garden.
there's a layered personal (system related) meaning about how the thorns represent "agressive" protectors and the bees are protectors that watch over the flowers (vulnerable system members) and the trees represent the boundaries, personal values, and "load bearing" members who influence how we collectively live and how we want the general public to see us.
its midnight and i cant get the creative juices flowing to make the poem make sense
