Memory's a Garden

I was reading the blog the spinster girl's guide to love like I so often do, when I came across a comment that Peregrinus wrote in response to one of the posts. His comment really stood out to me and made an impact so much so that I wanted to post it here. Perhaps it's an old batch of prose that's well known, or perhaps he wrote it himself...I haven't a clue. I just know I have never read it before now...and I wanted to share. Thank you, Peregrinus.

Memory's a garden,
It's changes come from how it's tended.
Some soil fertile, some ground hardened,
Some growth flourishing, some ended.

Truth is a seed, and for the rest
We fools still judge by what has grown.
Take care, and know what manifests
Is only truth to you alone.

Too blind and frail to do the weeding,
We hope, and bluster, pray and weep.
We seldom harvest what we're needing.
The gentlest seed oft stays asleep.

And someday soon we shall be planted.
Then memory is all we're granted.