Maelle MacLeod — Her Garden | 1267

“Her Garden” is from Maelle MacLeod’s album 1267. A song about mothers, daughters, letting go, loss — and the quiet courage it takes to keep the gate open even after the garden has known grief. From 1267 by Maelle MacLeod. This track was created with the assistance of generative AI as part of the Fleur Sauvage Records project. Lyrics below. She kept a garden behind a wall, some flowers strong, some frail and small. She knew which loved the morning sun, which feared the frost, and every one. When hail came down, she covered them. When winter came, she wrapped each stem. Grow while you may. Grow while you're here. I'll give you water, I'll keep you near. But every garden has a gate. And every mother learns to wait. One morning came a gentle man. He stood outside, his hat in hand. “I love that flower. I have some land. May she grow there, if you understand?” She took her spade and dug down deep. “Take all her roots. And this earth, keep. She fears the frost. She likes the rain. And let her see the sun again.” Grow where you may. Grow where you will. I'll miss your colour beside my sill. For every garden has a gate. And every mother learns to wait. Another came with hands like stone. He saw a flower and took his own. He broke the stem. He pulled it free. She cried: “Please leave that one to me.” He laughed and left. Beside the lane she found the petals after rain. She gathered each from dirt and mud and brought them home as best she could. A lord came riding in the spring. He praised the flowers like pretty things. He took a handful. Left some gold. The coins stayed there untouched and cold. When autumn died and winter came, the wind brought something through the gate. A flower, dry, with petals white. She knew the stem. It leaned toward light. She cannot stop the frost or rain. She cannot make the broken whole again. She tends the earth. She mends the wall. And leaves the gate for those who call. One springtime morning someone came. The gentle man. She knew his name. He brought a flower small and new. “She grew beside the one from you.” The gardener laughed. She knelt down low. She touched the earth. “Then here you'll grow.” Grow while you may. Grow where you will. The world is wide beyond my sill. For every garden has a gate. And every mother learns to wait. She kept a garden behind a wall. And somehow... loved them all.