Garden On The Moon Poem by Christopher Teale

Imagine a garden on the Moon.
The silver soil is rich with the stuff of night,
which rains on sleeping souls as light,
on those nights of a full Moon.

Imagine the flowers that there bloom
from buds that tease the beauty they conceal;
between leaves of green away they seal,
away they seal those flowers till they bloom.

Imagine the trees and their twisted branches,
how they reach through winding paths
to the burning sun so full of wrath.
Twisted are the paths of their branches.

Imagine the rain! The rain of tearful stars
who twinkle eternally to quench the thirst
of endless life in sleep immersed.
Immersed in the darkness among the stars.

Remember the gardener, you,
who made this place from thought alone,
who sings the song and sets the tone.
You alone among the few;

The lucky few who dare to sleep and dream...