Tears in the Garden

I went to the garden to cry.

The wind through the reeds

cast flickering shadows

against the sunlit rock fountain.

I want to crawl into

the shelter provided there.

The fountain is overgrown,

unattended.

And no tears come.

I long to dip my toes

in the cool pool,

but I don’t.

There’s a plant in the way after all,

And my inner child is napping.

So, I lay in the grass,

soft and cool,

and stare up at the sky

as a single white cloud

drifts by and moves on.

With moist eyes,

I roll over on my side

feeling open, like a child.

The leaves on the tree overhead

glow yellow and green.

There’s something about

a cool windy day.

I feel the quiet beauty

even while my heart aches.

Traffic noises intrude,

ants bite,

and it’s time to go.

I close again.