The remaining flowers of the long-lost gardens
Still wait for the faint dew drops
The same way the ancestral flowers
Looked for drizzle
Slowly turning into wild showers
The rain that strengthens weak roots
and threatens delicate plants
The new flowers,
have faint lingering memories,
when they were still blooming
of old fading flowers,
slipping down on the night of a fierce storm
Forget the fears of the day
and the pain of the noon,
live for that moment
before the night
when you own your time,
when the gentle wind beckons to you,
serene plants whisper,
warmth enters your being
and peaceful sleep takes you away
I was at ease in the
darkest of nights,
a silent companion
to the sprouting insects
and nameless reptiles
gazing at the ancient branches
as they nodded to the delicate young plants
trust and peace in their countenance
I closed my eyes and mind
to the bristle of ghosts
unnerved by my presence
My feelings calm,
I conveyed my non-interference
let me live in a world of my own
while they dwelled in theirs
Where is that dense forest
inhabited by palm, birch and maple trees?
Co-existing with their delicate leaves, fragrant flowers,
surrounded by tiny plants and thick vegetation
They were all cut down
and those who resisted
were burnt down
In their place now exists
modern buildings and uncaring hearts
throbbing only for printed papers
known as money
Those who survived the fire
still exist in the form of houses, furniture,
beauty products and lifesaving medicines
It was an afternoon
when birds in their nest swoon
that the sun forgot
to turn on its burning heat
It cast a warm light
to every being’s delight
Its warm glow
enveloping everything in yellow
Trees, plants and birds
half-asleep, soaked in the mild sun
and humans pausing to stare
hoping for its good temper to last
forgetting the aura of twilight for a while
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