Ode to a Garden Lost

I close my eyes, I hear them.
Imperceptible chirps.
Tricking me into joyfulness.

How easily the poet is fooled.

Softly whispering leaves,
adding complex dimensions to this unfolding, where reality and memory become one.

My enchanted garden breathing her sweet spells of oblivion, I am smiling but invisibly.

In a parallel cosmos my soul screams.

Now the garden breathes some magic. Runes so ancient that time is irrelevant. Only senses can unravel what the skeptics can never decipher.

The secrets of imagination, remain a sacred art.

I cannot see , hear or touch it, but from afar I water it , with drops of longing evermore.

I smell the sweetness of the desert rose. The Quails peering through the wild grass.

The funny Hare with floppy ears, twitching, listening.

The Hopi Chipmunk, winking, scheming.

The hummingbirds , laughing, drinking.

All is clear, in this parallel world of mine.

Light footed dancing, the dryads and fae folk encircling my heart completely, until I am no more.

By some tear of the wish fabric, or the casting of a prayer, or the falling of some lonely star, the enchanted garden was not lost to me, but lost in me.

I close my eyes, I hear them.
Imperceptible chirps.
Tricking me into joyfulness.

How easily the poet is fooled.

‘Ode to a Garden Lost’