Bottled at the source.

I found paradise

but now i see that i'm stuck behind a mirrored window; that i may only watch. I used to have a piece of paradise, or so it seemed.. it was a wonderful garden, so beautiful and filled with life.. but i didn't give it what it needed, i didn't pull out the weeds. it didn't matter that i watered it, i was also watering the weeds and i guess they were all that was growing. as things went on, the point came where i was simply watering dirt. only then did i see that the weeds needed to be pulled out.. but that was obviously too late. all the plants had moved their seeds elsewhere.. but this, this new paradise that i can see, there aren't weeds! it has all of the beauty and life of my old paradise, but now it has someone to tend it that knows that some weeds need pulling.. so i sit, and watch ...and think that i could have had a garden like that, if only i had pulled those damned weeds ...and think that if i could go back i would be pulling them ...and think of a hundred things i should have done for my paradise, but all things that i simply had not. there's no reason to beat myself up over it anymore, but i continue. ...and i watch. this paradise has a wonderful gardener, everything a garden like this deserves. so i sit back and am happy for all of the plants in the garden who are flourishing under this gardener's care. but.. now something seems wrong. i can't sit still anymore, i can't watch this, the garden needs more water! the gardener isn't tending as much anymore, as though they've decided it will do fine on it's own. this perfect gardener has gone astray. they need to be reminded that to continue taking the fruit and flowers from their paradise, they need to put work back in so there will -be- fruit and flowers to take. but i can't get through the glass! the garden needs help, or paradise could be lost yet again, but it's not my paradise to save anymore. so i try turning away from the window; hoping the gardener will realize before it's too late ...and i think about planting a new garden, creating a new paradise, and doing the right things this time. but i can't bring myself to do it. can't bring myself to leave the memory of my old garden, can't believe that any new garden would ever be as beautiful, as full of life as my old paradise. i have some seeds left, seeds of the old plant that grew in my garden ...but i won't plant them. i'm afraid, so afraid that they won't grow again. if they didn't grow, they would take all remnant of my paradise with them.. so i give in, turn back around, and watch this new paradise. from my side of this horrible mirrored window, i watch someone else's garden grow. and i am happy for the gardener. and i am happy for the garden. and i hope, with all of my heart, that the plants never dry out.