I have sown sorrows in hallowed ground; surrendered to loving patience of earth watered by perennial flow of tears I await the flowering of my secret garden
only when I surrendered the last hope relinquished the last dream vine torn from support I crumpled to ground did the lover appear and gather me in sanctum of embrace
I found flowers or rather flowers found me beckoning with colors whispering in fragrances; in their defenceless fragility, in their relentless bloom against wither of time, my defeat finds hope
in unblemished clarity of what is sorrow burns to ashes grief turns to dust on wasteland thus reclaimed a wild garden blooms invincible faces raised to the sky
around warmth of fireplace stories of togetherness comfort and make one drowsy forgetful of the night sky above where every star surrounded with multitudes is utterly alone