GARDEN
Sometimes we hide
If you ask us where We
go
It is likely we will tell you
In the summer it is garden of
hope
It is a garden of blossoms
It is a garden of light
It is a garden of colors
Too many to see
It is a garden of mulberries
It is a garden of barefeet
It is a garden of opening
It is a garden of sunlight
It is a garden of concealing
It is a garden
There is no better word for
it
This garden runs through the
alleyways
It scatters the meadows
It grows in the gravel
And perfumes the air that we
breathe
In the winter it is garden of
frozen leaves
It is a garden of icy steps
It is a garden of slumber
It is a garden of snowfall
Too soft to believe
It is a garden of vines
It is a garden of leather
shoes
It is a garden of increase
It is a garden of cold wind
It is a garden of decrease
It is a garden
There is no better word for
it
See,
I have fashioned a ball out
of
Words
And hung it from a trestle
bridge
Over a valley.
It is true we are hungry,
It is true we are waiting,
Three stones wrapped in
cotton.
Three seeds wrapped in
burlap.