Over half my vine’s branches were hewn and burned this past February.

“Give up the weight, dear vine, so you can focus your energies upon doing a smaller job very well.”  My enlivened whispers continued as I ripped a full nine feet of harsh, brown-dry entanglements from the left side. Then again on the right.

Oh, how I might grow if only the lessons I impart upon my plants were turned ’round to myself.