Consider the garden’s multitudinous weeds,

Untended in a time of drought.

How they strangle cherished flowers,

Those lying low without sunshine,

Tiny, bent, and struggling to rise from little spouts.

Inexperienced, you try pulling dry weeds

Only to find that weeds (like bad deeds, you know)

Break off leaving roots.

They multiply, reach for the sky,

Wafting armies of seeds that fly and take root where

They will be most likely to rampage bounteously

—Hear them laughing?

The vigorous weeds spread into new patches

Of annoyance.

Wise gardeners rethink their attack,

Starting with the preparation of the soil,

Allowing ample watering time to soak and soften.

Now how easy is removal of Nature’s misfits? The good gardener finds

Every step easier with such forethought,

Tackling the tallest offender, yanking open a clearing,

Excavating the site for future miracles

Filling with the right blooms in the right places

Where had been a blank and cluttered waste land.

Are there remaining questions?

Why yes, this is the seminar on the writing process.

What made you ask?

Perhaps we would do well to tackle metaphor.