Garden

There's a garden,

gated,

out back of my mind,

where bees delicately hum,

amongst dreams that grow

in vines of honeysuckle;

sweet,

delicate,

stretching towards the sun.

love blooms wild here;

dressed as daisies and dandelions,

twinkling;

sparks of starlight,

against blankets of emerald green.

Memories glint off of asters;

purple petals turned prismatic lenses,

sending messages,

of tender,

loving,

moments,

in morse code,

from amongst the sawgrass.

I walk here often,

amongst unpaved paths,

sun-warm earth kissing my feet;

picking bouquets of poppies,

cardinal flowers,

and yarrow,

until my arms overflow with joy,

full to the brim with fragrance,

that remembers,

the name the moon gave me.

And the cosmos smile

whispering in the passing breeze

"you too were made

to bloom unburdened,

with petals pointing skyward."

Participant's Poems