Niwa Poem by JAY WALK

There was a moongate to my heart
with gardens sunlight-drenched
and flowers spaced miles apart
of glass paperweights and hopes entrenched.

I strived to be the best plantsman
praying for showers to stop,
but I am neither fully mortal nor quarter God
so I crinkled angrily and cursed with a hop.

Hence, I built a roof of iron and steel
and secured my plants with chains steady
now they couldn't run off nor could they kneel,
this way I could always be ready.

But day by day my plants fell ill
with petals undone and leaves wilted,
I failed to realize their steel bastille
had made them awfully stilted.

My roof had bid their skies adieu,
no longer my meadows smelt balmy,
my flowers intact yet in their weakest hue,
a field of living origami.

I wept in sorrow with realizations a few
and used molten metal to pay the levy,
now I knew hearts and clouds could rain too
when things get a tad bit heavy.

There (still) is a moongate and garden within
but not so lovely as before,
nevertheless I strive, I fall, I begin,
dancing in rains no longer abhorred.

I claim perfect circles, I claim asymmetry,
for this is what I'll grow lifelong,
and all I wanted was to write simple poetry
but this (too) ended up a song.