There is a garden hard to find
Very few can reach it
Some like to call it divine
Or maybe an escape from anything too real.
Wild flowers grow
and the scent from their oils unleash a calming peace over her restless mind
when she finally walks barefoot
to the old worldly stone bench
that's waiting
It's always waiting
Like a grey day that brings you happiness
because you're sick of the sunshine
It's so gorgeous
When the pond is still and all she see's
are dragonflies and butterflies
dancing
She wanders to her garden often
and thinks how lucky she must be to have such a place
for her dreams to bleed.
Sometimes, when she's back in the world,
she looks upon the faces of others
and prays that they too
have found love in Solitude.
I have found my solitude that way. Lovely write, Leah. Thanks.
The poem is filled with serenity.. beautiful use of imagery. thank you for sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem surprises. On one level it is very reassuring and creates in me the same mood the woman attains when she enters society at the end and wishes everyone had a similar place of withdrawal and respite. that makes a fully satisfying poem. But let me do some deconstructive surgery, so to speak. A poem like this is meant to lull the mind but you have two striking moments that alert the mind and displace the lulling mood: first, a gray day is happy because Y0U'RE SICK 0F THE SUN- You instead of she also implicates the reader in sun-sickness, and second, DREAMS BLEED in the garden (!) bleed to death? to oblivion? These are minor key notes in a major key poem and enrich its overall impact.
to bleed is to know you are alive.